


A Lengthy Interlude

by lesbiansarahjacobs



Series: it's MY fantasy au and i get to choose the magic system [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Loss, Genocide, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Multi, Necromancer Law, Ranger Zoro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiansarahjacobs/pseuds/lesbiansarahjacobs
Summary: A look back before moving forward, or, important moments in Law and the Strawhats’ lives before they embark on their quest to kill Kaido. Related / warning tags for each character’s story will be listed after their class tag.-We continue with Zoro, a ranger who took the job for all the wrong reasons: “I get free food just for kicking some guys out of town?”
Relationships: Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante & Trafalgar D. Water Law, Heart Pirates & Trafalgar D. Water Law, Kuina & Roronoa Zoro, Monkey D. Luffy & Roronoa Zoro, Perona & Roronoa Zoro
Series: it's MY fantasy au and i get to choose the magic system [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950610
Comments: 20
Kudos: 26





	1. law: a dream deferred and reimagined, pt. i

**Author's Note:**

> *stands on tiptoes to smack the top of law’s head* this bad boy can fit so much trauma  
> (on a more serious note, this hits heavier topics than my previous fic in this au; mind the tags. as an additional warning, law minimizes the abuse he experiences a LOT. but! things get better)

Every day, he tells his parents he wants to be a healer just like them. He’s been poring through their medical books ever since he could read. Even if he doesn’t know all the words at first, he still memorizes the pictures. 

The books show him the body’s fragility, how one small mishap can cause everything to fall apart. Really, it’s amazing that people don’t fall apart more often, and Law dreams of being part of that miracle that stakes its claim in blood and bone and guts. 

His parents finally acquiesce on his seventh birthday, allowing him to stay in the room while they treat patients and explaining what they’ve done afterward. Law takes copious notes and begins reading aloud to Lami from the journals before bed. He doesn’t want her to feel left out and besides, it’ll improve her vocabulary. 

(Lami, for her part, is freshly four and doesn’t mind what Law’s reading her as long as they’re spending time together. But Law knows she prefers fiction, so he makes sure to read her stories as well.) 

Flevance is a city like any other; people get sick and some people have chronic conditions. No matter what, Law’s parents always do their best to help. Law’s a quiet kid—if he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say, he gets nervous—but he learns to feel more comfortable talking to patients so he can assess what’s wrong. Most of their neighbors know he’s trying to become a healer, so when they feel well enough to, they treat him like he’s the one in charge.

As a few years pass, more patients come to them with the same ailment: Amber Lead Syndrome. Cause: accumulation of white lead in the body. Symptoms: fever, white patches on the epidermis and hair, chronic pain. Recommended course of treatment: palliative care until eventual death. 

At first, they’re only coming from the mines, which makes sense. White lead is Flevance’s biggest export and has been for several decades. Although the miners make up a good portion of the town, Law is reassured that at least his parents and Lami are safe. 

But then Lami wakes him up one morning with tears in her eyes and sweat on her brow, and Law’s forced to confront the idea that this disease is bigger than any of them. That’s what his parents say after a month of research, that everyone in the town has been infected with the disease. It’s genetic, and it’s gradually been shortening everyone’s lifespan. The white lead that covers their homes, gives Flevance the nickname of the White Town, and brings in a large yearly profit is responsible for killing them all. 

\---

Law’s life turns upside down seemingly overnight. Not only does Lami have to spend more and more time in bed, but his parents are also tiring more easily. Often they dictate their research notes to Law, who then carries them to the other healer in town, all three working together to find a cure. They’re in agreement that a cure can be found; the sticking point is finding the right compound to bind to and dissolve the lead concentration. 

One day, visitors come, wearing facial coverings. They shrink back when Law coughs, but state they are here to speak to his parents. Law leads them to the sitting room where his parents are propped up with pillows, and then he goes to check on Lami. 

She’s awake and mostly cognizant for once, so Law reads to her from her favorite book and tells her how he saw a deer in the town square the other day, just to see her smile again. He doesn’t say that the reason the animal got so far is because most everyone’s either sick or tending to the sick. The only thing she should be focusing on is getting better, he says. 

He hears the front door open and close again, so he gives Lami a kiss on the forehead, promising to be back soon. His pace is slower now; his joint pain has been getting worse. As he approaches the sitting room, he can hear his parents arguing, but they stop when he walks in. 

“Who were the people visiting?” Law asks. 

“They were North Blue Kingdom officials,” his father says. 

“But aren’t you kind of like officials too? Flevance is part of the Kingdom and you’re officials of the town.” 

His mother smiles. “No, honey, these were people from the capital city of North Blue, where the governing body lives.” 

Law ponders this for a moment. “Okay. What did they want?” 

“They wanted to know if we had a cure for Amber Lead Syndrome yet,” his mother says. “We told them we were close and that we can say with certainty that it isn’t contagious.” 

“Why did they think it was contagious? And how did they know everyone here was sick anyway?” Law sees the look his parents share and comes to a realization. “Wait, is that why you were fighting when I came in?” 

“We weren’t fighting,” his father says automatically. “Your mother just has a different opinion of the Kingdom than I do. But Law, you might be a little young to—”

“I’m almost ten!” Law frowns. “And I’ve been helping you for months now. I should get to know what’s going on.”

“You’re right.” His mother coughs. “I think the Kingdom has known about the dangers of mining and using white lead for several years, but they didn’t bother to tell us. They’re only worried now because everyone’s visibly sick and suddenly it might be their problem. Especially if it’s contagious, which, thankfully, it’s not.” 

His father cuts in. “I don’t think so lowly of the Kingdom. For them to do that—well, it would be unbelievably callous. If we’d known about white lead earlier, we could’ve already had a cure. The Kingdom would never allow so many innocent people to die.” 

“But we’re close to a cure, right?” Law asks. 

“Yes, thanks to Dr. Akiyama’s help, we’ve identified an agent that can bind to lead,” his father says. “Hopefully, we can create a prototype in the next month. That’s what we told the Kingdom at least.” 

Law goes to bed that night with renewed hope. Lami can make it a month; he knows she can. Then they can cure everyone else in Flevance and Amber Lead Syndrome can be another disease conquered by modern medicine. Law will have gotten to be a part of healers’ history, and he’ll be better at his job for it. 

\---

Of course, that’s not how things go in the slightest. Something seems to have been missed in the chain of communication because suddenly, surrounding towns won’t have anything to do with Flevance. The second people see a white skin patch, they all but run away. This quickly begins causing issues with the food supply. Flevance relies heavily on trade and the food they grow themselves hasn’t been harvested because, well, people are sick.

And oh, how Law has become familiar with sickness. He’s watched Lami waste away to nearly nothing and it carves out a little more of him every day. It’s irrational, but he feels like he should’ve protected her better. He’s the older brother and he’s the one doing better—that isn’t fair. 

He spends as much time with her as he can. Mostly, she just wants him to talk to her, so he does. Law becomes an expert at monologuing, staying positive, and not crying. Everyone needs normalcy, so he provides it. When the skin on his forearms begins producing pale patches, he starts wearing shirts with longer sleeves. When his musculoskeletal pain gets worse, he grits his teeth and takes a larger dose of analgesic. And when his parents finally create a working prototype of a cure, he agrees to be their test subject. 

It takes some convincing. Lami should have it first, he argues. Because while it pains him to admit it, she’s not going to make it otherwise.

“Law, that’s why she _shouldn’t_ take it,” his mother explains. “Lami’s health is so poor that we won’t be able to tell if new symptoms are due to Amber Lead Syndrome or a miscalculation in our formula. You’re stable enough to be a viable case study and we can observe you more easily than one of our neighbors.” 

“You know how hard it is for us to get around these days,” his father says, and his voice softens as he sees Law’s expression. “Oh, sweetheart—” 

“So Lami-ya’s just going to die and we shouldn’t do anything?” Law half asks, half wails. 

“This wasn’t an easy decision.” His father is close to tears. “We don’t want Lami to die.” 

“We’re afraid we’re going to lose both of you. We never wanted to use our own child as a test subject, Law.” His mother’s voice breaks. “I don’t want to be responsible for hurting my own son.” 

Law sniffles. “But you won’t hurt me. I’ve seen your notes. It should work, right?”

“Your best answer can still be wrong when it comes to the human body,” his father says, but he and his mother both hug Law tightly, as if thanking him for believing in them. 

The injection Law receives an hour later does hurt, since it’s injected intravenously to, ironically, help with his pain. His parents watch him in anticipation, though the only result he can offer for their research is “nothing feels different yet.” They ask him to keep them updated and he promises he will, but he has to see Lami first. 

She’s asleep and paler than ever. As he sits with her, she tosses and turns. Law wipes her brow as he talks to her in low tones. Since she isn’t going to comprehend or remember this, he finally lets out what he’s been wanting to say for months. 

_I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened to you. Our parents are trying their hardest, but I’m scared. I’m tired all the time, and I can’t show anyone that I’m hurting. I’m not ready to lose you. I wish I could’ve done more for you and if it were possible, I would die so you could live._

He ends by saying “I love you,” but he always says it as often as she’ll let him, so that’s nothing new. 

\---

The next morning, Law wakes up to gunfire, smoke, and his mother yelling that he needs to go to Lami’s room in the back of the house and keep them both hidden. 

“Why?” Law manages to ask as she anxiously shepherds him there. He hasn’t even gotten to tell her that his joint pain is the slightest bit better than it usually is. 

“The Kingdom officials are back, and they’ve brought an army. We’re not sure why.” She kisses his forehead. “Your father and I are going to talk to them, so just wait here.” 

“Okay,” Law says, but she’s already rushed back to the front hall. He turns to Lami, whose eyes are bright with fever. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“I heard someone screaming outside,” she tells him. 

Law feels like he’s being wrenched in two. On one hand, he should stay with Lami and protect her, but on the other, he wants to make sure his parents are safe. After ten seconds of frenzied risk calculations, he decides his parents are in greater danger. 

“Hold on, Lami-ya,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” 

He runs to the front window and peers out, carefully and silently cracking it open while making sure not to move the curtain. 

His parents have only just caught the attention of the officials who visited them a month earlier. “What on earth are you doing?” his father yells, face contorted with fury in a way Law’s never seen before. 

“Ah, the Doctors Trafalgar,” the one in charge says as they all stride forward, flanked by a few guards with swords. Why would those be necessary? Dread begins to crawl into Law’s stomach. “Surely you’ve been made aware of the threats your townspeople have been making.” 

“We’ve been made aware of no such thing, as I’m sure you know,” Law’s mother snaps. “You’ve had no further communication with us since your last visit.” 

“The letters must have been lost in delivery,” says an official to the side. They don’t look as if they believe this statement. “Our records show we sent you several unanswered missives inquiring about the progression of the disease and your progress toward a cure.” 

“So imagine how distressed we were to learn that the people of Flevance have been threatening to infect the surrounding towns with this incurable, contagious disease if they don’t reopen trade,” the final official adds. Law’s eyebrows knit together. That’s not right. Sure, people have been upset and hungry, but they’d never do that.

His father echoes this sentiment. “You know that’s not true! We told you it wasn’t contagious when we showed you our research. And we’ve found a potential cure. We were close before, but now we’ve entered trials.” 

His mother waits politely for him to finish and then steps forward. Law has to strain to hear what she says. “You knew. This whole time, you knew that white lead was dangerous. And now that people are starting to die, you want to act like it’s our fault. So now what? Are you going to kill us all to hide your culpability?” 

“You make us sound so conniving,” the leader says. “We’re merely pointing out that there’s no written documentation of the existence of a cure or the potential danger of the disease. And if we don’t have those things, then we have to take Flevance’s demands for trade as a threat to the health of the rest of North Blue. Don’t we?” 

“This is wrong, what you’re doing,” Law’s mother pleads. “People won’t blame the Kingdom for not warning them if you just let us heal them. Give us the resources and you’ll be the heroes.” 

“What if your cure doesn’t work? Are we supposed to give you resources until you find the correct formula?” The final official scoffs. “You’re all going to die anyway. Why drag it out?” 

The dread has crawled from Law’s stomach to his throat. The Kingdom is supposed to protect its citizens; that’s what he’s always been told. But now they’re going to destroy the entire town? He, his parents, and Lami have to leave. He’s about to throw all caution to the wind and sprint out of the house to grab his parents, but his father speaks first. 

“The entire time,” he says, “the entire time Flevance has been spiralling out of control, as lifelong friends have died, and I’ve watched my wife and our children wither away, I never allowed myself to think the Kingdom would knowingly abandon us. And you’ve proved me wrong.” He glares defiantly at the officials. “But no matter what you do, our records and research will live on.” 

The second official laughs, an ugly sound in such a solemn moment. “You think we’ll leave your records untouched?”

“Your naivete has led to your people’s downfall,” the leader says. “At least you’ll die with that clarity.” 

They signal to the guard next to them, and Law watches his father’s head fall to the ground seconds before the rest of his body follows. He clamps a hand over his mouth, mindful that screaming would endanger not only him, but also Lami. 

His mother screams loud enough for both of them and runs at the leader, no thought in her head other than inflicting harm. She receives a sword through the chest for her efforts, and then the leader’s gesturing at the house. 

Law sprints away from the window, back to Lami; gods, he’s at least got to save Lami. However, when he stumbles into her room, he’s greeted not by her voice, but her unmoving form. “Lami-ya?” he asks, shaking her, willing away the stiffness in her skin. He still takes the few extra seconds to feel for a pulse, just to confirm that his entire family has died in the course of mere minutes. 

Tears blur his vision as he quickly grabs his backpack from his room. It holds only his healer-in-training journal and some dried meat he didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday, but it’ll have to be enough. Law slams open the back door right as he hears the front door get kicked in. He forces the glassy eyes of the people he loves most out of his head and focuses on running into the forest as fast as he can. 

He stops for a breather at the top of a hill above the town to survey the destruction. Buildings are on fire, including his own home, and bodies are sprawled everywhere. The soot from the fires contrasts strikingly with sickly pale white skin, and Law is grateful he’s been spared that fate for at least a few more weeks. Like the Kingdom officials said, there’s no guarantee his parents’ cure is viable.

\---

And yet, Law doesn’t die. Weeks pass, then months, and his symptoms peter out completely. Rather than feel relieved, Law becomes incensed. The cure worked, so that means the Kingdom committed genocide against an entire town for absolutely fucking nothing other than their own pride. People didn’t have to die. Even if they’d just had another week, Law’s recovery would’ve been enough to begin administering the cure to others. That would’ve been much more difficult for the Kingdom to deny. 

He misses Lami and his parents so hard it hurts. In their honor, he writes down as much as he can remember about the cure’s formulation. His parents’ work will not be forgotten, not if he’s able to do anything about it. In the back of his journal, he methodically records all his memories of his family. Logically, he knows he didn’t have enough time to take any of their belongings from the house before it was destroyed, but he wishes he had something material.

Outside of his grief, Law spends the rest of his time trying to survive. It’s hard being ten years old and without a guardian. Since the white patches on his skin don’t disappear with the rest of his symptoms, he has to remain in the shadows of the city where he eventually lands. From scattered newspapers, he discovers that the Kingdom has only continued to spread the rumors of how contagious Amber Lead Syndrome was, and he’s not willing to test the strength of people’s belief. He’s only able to grab food from the trash and half the time, it’s not even worth the trouble. 

After a while, he learns that the bakery is the most reliable. They usually throw out day-old bread that becomes a staple of Law’s diet, though it seems ridiculous to even use that word to refer to his eating habits. When he can, he scrounges half-rotten fruit and scraps of overcooked meat. But most often, it’s just plain stale bread, and he grows to despise the dry taste. 

The Kingdom did this to him, he realizes. They made him as low as vermin; they declared that he was something that should be eradicated. Why have they been allowed to decide his fate?

Law’s anger takes on a more personal edge with every passing day. With little else to occupy him, he dreams of becoming so powerful that he can get revenge on all of North Blue. Not only should they face retribution on behalf of Flevance, but they should feel his wrath specifically, Trafalgar D. Water Law’s, the sole survivor!

But that kind of power doesn’t come easily, and Law certainly isn’t picking up any by starving in the streets day after day. Living in the darker side of a large city has its perks, however, the main one being information. Law eavesdrops on the conversations of people who look like they’d kill him if they knew he was listening, and he hears stories of others who aren’t satisfied with the Kingdom. 

One name that continually arises is Donquixote Doflamingo, the Heavenly Demon. Even his moniker exudes the kind of energy Law is seeking. But the stories themselves are something else. Doflamingo is a man with an axe to grind and the Kingdom often finds themselves at the other end of that blade. Law’s hooked. He’s going to find this man, and he’s going to demand that he allow Law to be his apprentice. Really, he has nothing else to lose. 

\---

It turns out Donquixote Doflamingo is a fairly difficult man to find, though Law supposes he understands why that is. With the amount of atrocities he’s racked up, he doesn’t want the Kingdom to come knocking. Regardless, it takes more work than Law thought to determine where the man lives. 

He takes the amalgamation of several stories and uses it to narrow down the possibilities. Doflamingo lives far on the outskirts of the town of Dressrosa. His house is deep in the woods, but it’s said that he leaves slashes in trees as a form of marking the path to his house for those who know to look for them. 

Law makes the two-day trek to Dressrosa and positions himself at its west gate. From there, he follows the main path into the woods and takes the third fork on the left. He begins looking for the slashes at this point and after twenty minutes, he’s able to locate one. He then ends up following the scattered pattern for roughly five hours. Doflamingo has created several dead ends as a means of confusing people like Law. 

However, Law’s resilience has carried him this far, and he refuses to give up. Just as the sun is setting, he arrives at a house covered in moss. If this isn’t Doflamingo’s residence, he figures he can still beg a dinner off the occupants. He knocks twice, with what he hopes is a formidable amount of force. 

An absolutely gigantic man opens the door and glances down at him impassively through a set of sunglasses. “Are you lost, little boy?” 

Law fixes him with a stare, though he can’t tell if it’s returned. “Are you Donquixote Doflamingo?” 

“Depends who’s asking. Who might you be?” 

“My name is Trafalgar D. Water Law.” 

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” 

“Not yet,” Law says, surprising himself with his intensity. “But I want to study underneath Doflamingo.” 

The man raises an eyebrow. “Come inside. Let’s talk.” 

Law follows him into a sitting room. The man gestures toward an armchair, and Law gingerly takes a seat as his counterpart settles into a couch. Law jumps as he realizes there’s another person on the couch, a man wearing a large black coat who blends into the shadows. 

“I’m the man you’re looking for,” the one with the sunglasses says, redirecting Law’s attention to him. “Doflamingo. What did you mean by wanting to study underneath me?” 

“I mean that you’re very powerful and I want to learn how to be too.”

Doflamingo laughs. “It’s Law, right? Law, I was born with my magic. It’s not something I was taught. And nearly everyone wants power—what makes you so different?” 

Law rolls up his shirt sleeve and shoves his arm into the light. “This.” There are still patches on his face, but he figures a dramatic reveal is more appropriate.

Doflamingo draws back at the sight of white skin patches, but only slightly. “You’re from the White Town, then? I thought they killed all of you.” 

“Not all of us. I escaped in time,” Law says. “My parents were healers. They gave me a cure before the Kingdom burned down Flevance.” 

“Ah, so there _was_ a cure?” 

“Yes. And the Kingdom knew. They killed my parents for daring to say it.” 

Doflamingo _hms_ , taking in what Law’s just told him. “Well. That’s a very interesting reason for desiring magic. What branch are you seeking to pursue?” 

Law’s spent a lot of time thinking about this, so he has his answer ready. “Necromancy. I’m not scared of death anymore.” He’s ready to wield it as a weapon, just as it was wielded against him.

“And what exactly will you do once you’re an all-powerful necromancer?” 

“I want to bring them all back,” Law says, voice hardened. “Everyone in Flevance. I want the Kingdom to look them in the face and answer for what it’s done.” 

Doflamingo grins. “That’s an honorable goal, Law. Of course I’ll teach you what you need to know.” 

The other man in the room lights a cigarette and scowls. He probably doesn’t want Law to learn their secrets. Bastard. Can’t he grasp that this is about justice? That Law’s going to prove merciless killing of innocent and sick people won’t go unpunished? 

But he doesn’t say anything, so neither does Law. Instead, Doflamingo takes the lead and shows Law to an unoccupied bedroom, telling him that it’s late and he looks forward to beginning Law’s training in the morning.

\---

Despite Doflamingo— _call me_ Doffy, _Law_ —having an innate source of magic, he’s still spent many years collecting books on all types, including several on necromancy. Just as he did before his life went to shit, Law spends hours in the library, scrutinizing the various texts and taking notes, not that he’s using them yet. Doffy trains him in meditation and some basic combat for about a month before he attempts to reach out to any form of magic. 

Law finds out that the man always around them is named Rocinante and he’s Doffy’s beloved younger brother. It’s odd though, for someone who’s related to Doffy and therefore has access to the same magic that he does, Roci rarely seems to use any. He prefers to do things by hand, “the slow way,” as Doffy refers to it, always derisively. 

Once, early on, Law asks Roci why he doesn’t just use magic after watching the man try and fail to spark a flame in the fireplace for five minutes straight. Roci pauses before answering. “Calling it forth doesn’t come naturally to me.” 

The conversation comes back to Law when Doffy finally allows him to try using magic because calling it forth is the most natural fucking thing Law’s ever done. He almost shakes with the excitement of feeling a spark of something bigger than himself, doesn’t realize he _is_ shaking until Doffy places a hand on his shoulder. Gods, he can do this. The power of it all is so heady, he hardly notices the sharp edge to Doffy’s proud smile. 

Law’s control only builds from there. He starts small, smaller than he thinks he needs to, but Doffy assures him the only way to achieve his goals is through complete mastery of manipulating life energy. So Law concentrates on hearing the heartbeats of animals from increasing distances, then the rush of blood in their veins, and then the movements of their organs. 

Next, he begins to manipulate these autonomic functions. With his anatomical knowledge, it’s easy to visualize the process. He makes their hearts skip a beat. He keeps their lungs from expanding. He sees down to the microscopic level and he prevents hemoglobin from carrying oxygen through their bodies. There’s a twinge of guilt at this point; he’s causing these animals to fear for their lives, even if he’s not killing them. Didn’t he use to want to be a healer? 

He voices this thought aloud to Doffy, realizing too late that such an admission could be perceived as weakness. But Doffy points out that Law would’ve had to practice this anyway, that only by learning how to take bodies apart could he learn to put them back together again. He’s right, of course. Roci’s in the background of this conversation (isn’t he always?) and Law sees his eyebrows draw together before he walks away. 

\---

The day that Law actually uses his powers to kill for the first time is burned into his hippocampus, impossible to forget. It starts like this: he shuts his eyes, breathes out, and listens for a heartbeat that isn’t his, Doffy’s, or Roci’s. There—a field mouse is just outside. He retrieves it and carries it into the back room where the brothers are waiting, Doffy leaning back lazily in a chair and Roci with his back against the wall, shoulders hunched and arms crossed.

Law places the mouse, which is beginning to tremble, onto the table in the center of the room and steps back. He holds one hand out in front of him. (Doffy says physical movements can help move magic through the body and Law’s found this to be true, especially when he’s trying to center himself.) The mouse’s heartbeat pounds in his fingertips, or maybe it’s his own. It’s hard to tell when both are speeding up. 

He slowly curls his fingers inward. The digits seem to subconsciously resist the movement, but Law draws his mouth into a tight line and eventually creates a fist. On the table, the mouse is frozen, its heart trying to fight against the vice that’s encircled it. After thirty seconds, it falls over, unmoving. Law releases his fist, exhausted, and falls to his knees, breathing deeply. The mouse’s dead eyes are staring right at him and now that the magic isn’t coursing through him, he feels powerless to fight off the weight of what he’s done. 

“Congratulations,” Roci says sharply, straightening up and walking forward. “You killed it.” The man’s tone and expression are clearly not congratulatory. Law shrinks back. 

Doffy stands up from his chair and crouches in front of Law. He cups the boy’s chin, forcing Law to view his own teary-eyed reflection. “You did well, Law. Roci and I need to talk, so why don’t you go to the kitchen and get lunch.” It’s not a question, so Law nods and leaves the room, closing the door.

He takes a few heavy footsteps down the hall and then lightly walks back to the door, pressing his ear against it.

“What’s your problem, Roci? He’s progressing nicely.” 

“That _is_ the problem.” If Doffy sounds angry, Roci sounds furious.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Don’t—” A fist knocks against a table. “—act coy. How dare you use a child for—I don’t even know what for anymore!” 

“Then why worry? You heard him. This is for _his_ village, _his_ vendetta against the Kingdom. I’m merely helping him reach his potential.” 

“Bullshit,” Roci says, but then his voice gets too quiet to make out anything else, so Law takes it as his cue to leave. 

He goes to the kitchen and nibbles on an apple. It feels like cement in his stomach. 

\---

Law tries to put his eavesdropping out of mind, and the new material he’s practicing actually makes it quite easy. He goes to bed bone tired every day, filled with the satisfaction of a job well done. Harvesting the life energy of smaller beings has gotten easier, and he’s learning how to store their energy in various crystals for later use. 

He doesn’t even notice how quickly time’s been passing, but soon it’s been a year. Around this time, Doffy decides that maybe Law’s ready to try reviving the dead. The two of them come across a dead squirrel during a walk in the woods: a perfect opportunity. 

Law pulls some clear quartz from his pocket. (All the books say it’s a great all-purpose stone for beginners.) He holds it to the squirrel’s tiny chest and closes his eyes, visualizing a path of energy connecting the crystal and the creature’s nervous system. It’s an uphill battle; the path keeps blowing itself out and twisting around. Finally, there’s a shaky line connecting the two entities, and Law concentrates intensely to try and make a stronger connection. 

His eyes suddenly fly open as he lets out a strained breath. The squirrel’s whole body convulses, and then it makes eye contact with Law. It’s far too uncomfortable with Law’s proximity and darts away like a shot once he shifts his weight from his knees to his heels. 

“Fuck,” Law says, the only thing that comes to mind. 

Doffy laughs. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I could do anything.” 

“You can. You will.” Doffy’s tone is so insistent that Law turns around to look at him. “You’re going to avenge your village, Law. And then—”

“And then?” Law asks, breathless. 

“Well, we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

\---

Roci hadn’t been on that walk with them, hasn’t been around much at all recently. Not that Law cares. What has Roci ever done for him? Belittled him, undermined him, treated him like a helpless child instead of someone who’s going to be the second most powerful magic user in existence? 

No, Law doesn’t miss him. 

\---

“What can _you_ do, Doffy?” Law asks a few days after his first resurrection.

“Hm?” Doffy doesn’t look up from his book on energy transfer. 

“I mean,” Law says, “I came to you because I’d heard the stories of your power. But they never had many details, and I haven’t seen you do anything big since I’ve been here. So I want to know what you can do.” 

“I suppose it would be beneficial for you to see how another form of magic works,” Doffy says. “Let’s take a walk.” 

The woods are cool for late spring and as usual, Law has to walk quickly to keep up with Doffy’s long strides. As they make their way closer to the forest’s most-traveled pathway, Doffy explains the Celestial Dragon bloodline, and how it originated with the fiery passion of dragonborns who used their powers to rule the world. 

Their dynasty fell a couple centuries ago due to infighting and power struggles. Turns out that when people get used to manipulating the rest of the world, they also end up manipulating those close to them. But even if that generation had brought about the end of their reign, the magic they passed on to their descendents was no less powerful than it had ever been. 

“And it’s still just as powerful,” Doffy says, raising one finger upward. In response, a flame alights above the digit. Just as effortlessly, he extinguishes it. He sees Law’s wide mouth and laughs. “This is nothing; I could set this whole forest ablaze if I felt the need. But that isn’t what I wanted to show you.” 

They’re standing among the trees lining the edge of the main pathway, and there’s a group of travelers approaching them. “Do you want to see how the Celestial Dragons were able to rule for so long?” 

“Of course,” Law says. 

Doffy holds a hand up, bent horizontally at the wrist, and flicks his pointer finger. Suddenly, the traveler in front stops dead in their tracks. With a few more movements from Doffy, they’re turning around to face the rest of their party and drawing their sword. 

“Doffy?” Law asks, at the exact same time that the party is calling their friend’s name in fear and confusion. 

There’s no response other than Doffy tilting his head slightly and beginning to use his other fingers to manipulate some more party members, all drawing their weapons to the intense panic of those unaffected. If Law concentrates, he can almost make out the threads of magic extending from Doffy’s fingers to the people he’s controlling. But the idea of being able to do such a thing is so beyond Law that whenever he blinks, they disappear again.

At this point, all the travelers have their weapons poised to strike at each other, either in attack or defense. Those under Doffy’s control look just as scared as their friends. The first one Doffy selected is yelling that they don’t know what’s happening but they don’t want to hurt anyone.

Law’s stomach is churning. He calls out his mentor’s name again. Nothing. 

The traveler who’s been yelling swings their sword at the person in front of them without warning. Luckily, it’s blocked with a shield, but now the group is completely on edge. Doffy begins twitching his fingers more complexly and more people under his control begin using their weapons. 

Gods, not everyone’s able to block the attacks, and people are bleeding and still screaming the names of their friends, and someone’s lying unmoving on the ground, and Doffy’s just standing there with a stony face like none of this even matters, and—

Law slams into Doffy with full force and as they’re falling to the ground, he can see the strings snap. Doffy turns to look at him and it’s like the fire he drew from his fingers earlier is now in his eyes. “I—you weren’t stopping,” Law stammers, terrified in the face of heavenly wrath. 

“And why should I have?” Law’s never seen Doffy this angry, ever, not even when Roci yelled at him that one time.

“They didn’t do anything wrong and you were making them hurt each other and they were scared,” Law says. “ _I_ was scared.” 

Doffy gets to his feet and brushes off his pants. “I did this for you, Law. You asked for it. It’s not my fault if you can’t handle it.” 

_I didn’t know it would be like this_ , Law wants to say but knows he shouldn’t. As Doffy begins walking back to the house in silence and Law hurries after him, he looks back at the traveling party. 

They’ve rushed to help the wounded and they’re all sobbing. Someone tries to hug the leader and they back away in fear: _no, you shouldn’t touch me, what if I hurt you again?_

Law turns toward the path Doffy’s cutting through the brush and tries to ignore the tears welling up. 

\---

Doffy heads to his room when they get back to the house, and Law doesn’t see him for the rest of the day. In fact, over the next couple days, Doffy seems to be avoiding him, but not in a way that Law can point to definitively. Doffy’s around, sure, but they’re not training and Doffy gives very clipped responses to anything Law says. Law feels like he’s crazy because this can’t be about what happened, can it? He needs Doffy to help him progress in his studies. 

Finally, he approaches Doffy while the man is reading. “I’m really sorry about the other day,” Law says. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I was being selfish.” It’s not a false apology, not entirely, but he’s still not exactly sure what he did wrong by trying to protect those people. He just can’t keep living in this tension-filled silence.

“I just want to help you, Law,” Doffy says. “And I need to be sure I can trust you.” 

“You can,” Law says, insistent. How could Doffy doubt that?

“Well, I can only do that if I know that you trust _me_ ,” Doffy says. “That means trusting that I know best and not questioning it. Can you do that?” 

“Yes, of course, I promise I will.” Law’s trying hard not to cry again, but he really needs Doffy to believe him. He has nowhere else to go if the man doesn’t.

“Hey.” Doffy crouches down to be closer to Law’s height. “It’s going to be okay. We still have a lot to do together, right?” 

Law nods, he and Doffy hug, and everything’s back to being all right again.

\---

Now that the incident’s settled and Roci’s still not around to plant doubt in Law, he and Doffy get along like a house on fire. They stay up late into the night discussing possibilities for advancing Law’s magic to the point where he’s not just resurrecting but also controlling corpses. Training still starts early in the morning, however. It’s second nature at this point for Law to drain animals of their life energy, but he’s working hard to become more efficient at then using that energy to revive them. 

“The trick to creating control over the revived is only returning a partial amount of energy to them,” Doffy explains. “Right now, you’re pouring a maximum amount of energy into these creatures to return their mental processes to their original state. But if you only give them enough energy to move around, then they’ll do as you command.”

Law nods. He can do that. Or, if he can’t, he’ll push himself until he can. 

The areas of the brain necessary to carry out commands are the motor cortex and cerebellum. Decision-making, emotion, autonomic functions, sensory processing, homeostasis, and memory are superfluous; Law can ignore the areas correlating to these processes in his revival. The spinal cord will be needed to relay desired movements to the rest of the body, but it’s easier to reach out to such a large, easily defined part of the nervous system.

He has to return to the books to figure out where the equivalents of these areas are in various animal brains. The idea of reviving a person in any capacity is still foreign to him, even though he knows he’ll reach that milestone someday. 

Under Doffy’s watchful eye, Law kills and revives several squirrels to varying degrees until he manages to only use enough energy to reactivate part of the brain. He can feel he’s done it even before he’s greeted with the animal’s vacant eyes, staring but not seeing anything. 

Frowning intensely, Law raises his hand outward, envisioning what he’d like the animal to do: run toward him and then stay at his feet. It’s something that goes against natural instincts, so if this works, he’ll be one step closer to being a true necromancer. 

At first, the squirrel does nothing more than twitch its nose, but then it moves in Law’s direction, eventually reaching its end destination and awaiting further orders. The whole thing takes longer than Law would have liked, but it doesn’t matter because Doffy showers him with praise anyway. 

Before they return home, Law fully revives the animal. Doffy raises an eyebrow at the waste of energy, and Law offers a shallow shrug. It doesn’t feel right to leave a shell of a once-living being in the world, waiting for a command that will never come. 

\---

A few nights later, Doffy asks if he can share something with him. Law nods, trying not to show his excitement. Doffy must really trust him. 

“Your ultimate goal is to enact justice against the Kingdom, right?” Doffy asks, pausing for Law’s affirmation. “Well, that’s one we share. Do you remember how I said the Celestial Dragons used to rule our entire world?” 

“Yes,” Law says, “but you said they fell because they had internal power struggles.”

“A half truth,” Doffy replies. “North Blue Kingdom and its three counterparts helped orchestrate those struggles by only sharing information with some Dragons and undermining the group’s reputation as a whole. So, while the Dragons were their own downfall, the Kingdoms pushed them to that point.” 

“Okay. So then what’s your plan?” 

“It’s simple, Law. I want the Dragons to rule the world again.” Law nods haltingly, and Doffy takes it as a sign to continue. “And I want you alongside me as we work to achieve that.” 

“But I’m not a Celestial Dragon.”

Doffy smiles, softer than usual. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you’re growing to be very powerful, and I want you on my side.” 

Law desperately tries not to show how excited that makes him. It’s nothing that hasn’t been implied before, but hearing Doffy say it so explicitly is different. “Of course I’ll help you.” 

“I’m glad. You know, I’ve come to see you as another brother,” Doffy says offhandedly, as if he doesn’t know exactly how much that statement means to Law. He laughs when he sees Law’s bright eyes. “Don’t be so flattered.” 

Law’s cheeks are hot at the chastisement, even if Doffy didn’t mean it as a putdown. “I’m just happy that everything has worked out so well since I came here.” 

“As am I.” Doffy rolls up his sleeves and leans forward. “Now let’s talk strategy.”

\---

The strategy is as follows: Law will raise and control recently dead people, and Doffy will come to the rescue of whatever town they’re terrorizing. Ideally, people will question why North Blue isn’t doing more to protect them and see just how powerful Celestial Dragons can be. 

The issue with the strategy is as follows: Law has never tried to raise a higher life form before, much less control them. He says as much, but Doffy waves him off, claiming it can’t be much different from what he’s already done. 

Deep down, Law feels that it’s very different, not least because people have a more thoroughly developed prefrontal cortex and therefore a concept of free will and sense of self. But what does he know? What really makes him anxious is the fact that there’s no way to practice. There isn’t exactly a plethora of dead bodies for him to mess around with; Law’s not going to create them either. No, this is all or nothing, and he just has to not fuck up when the time comes.

Doffy gives him a gift, a beautiful staff topped with hematite. The stone stores a greater amount of energy than the quartz he’s been carrying around with him, and the length of the staff affords him a greater amount of distance from his… well, he’s not sure what to call them. “Patients” is wrong, “victims” is worse, and “puppets” is the worst possible option.

_But that’s what they are, aren’t they_ , whispers the voice in his head that sounds somewhat like Roci. Having another being under his control means they’re his puppet, and that’s a headache of a moral dilemma. 

He haltingly asks Doffy about it one night, how he came to terms with controlling other people. The man is confused as to why this would even be an issue for Law—which is not a promising start—and finally Law gives up, grumbling, “I don’t know why I’m trying to talk to you about this, since you clearly don’t care.” 

“You’re right.” Doffy’s cold tone pierces straight through him. “I don’t care. If you have an issue, take it up with the gods.” He then turns back to his book. 

Shocked into silence, Law goes to his room, hugs a pillow to his chest, and stares at the same spot on the wall for a very long time. He has no one else to talk to about this. Doffy knows that, hence why it’s such a surprise to dismissed so callously. 

The next morning, Doffy apologizes, sort of. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh, but you have to realize it’s a non-issue.” Unspoken is _I expected better_. 

Law will do better. Law will be better. 

\---

Law fucks everything up immensely. They get to the site and Doffy shows him the body he wants him to raise and Law tries harder than he’s ever done anything. 

And the body remains motionless, just like Law always thought it would, despite hoping it wouldn’t.

Doffy’s scowl is so intense that Law actually cowers. He marches them back home without a word, Law despising himself the whole way and trying not to stumble from exhaustion. Once Law’s in the safety of his room, the dam bursts, and he cries angry tears, slapping his face until it burns as hot as his self-hatred. 

He waits for his tears to dry, and then he takes his staff and marches into the forest for several hours. No creature knows what hits them as Law methodically kills and raises them to follow his command without question. It’s the way things should be. He has the power to do this, so it’s only natural that everyone else falls into line. That’s the point Doffy thought was too stupid to verbalize; he understands it now.

Although raising uses life energy, killing uses just magic and Law’s body. The process is exhausting, but he grits his teeth and pushes through it. So what if his joints ache worse than they ever did with Amber Lead Syndrome? If he can’t do this, then there was no fucking point in surviving the disease anyway.

At sunrise, Law returns to the house to find Doffy sipping coffee languidly in the kitchen. “You won’t let me down again,” his mentor comments, not even bothering to make eye contact. The threat is strong enough on its own.

“Never,” Law says. He drops his head humbly. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” 

“Not to worry. Like you said, it won’t happen again.” Doffy’s gaze flicks to Law’s cheek, where a bruise has bloomed over the course of the night. “And I can see you’ve punished yourself already.” 

Law is embarrassed that his inner turmoil is so visible to the other man. It’s a vulnerability, and the way Doffy is looking at him makes him feel like a lab specimen. He clears his throat. “Right, well. When are we going to the next site?” 

\---

The town they arrive at a week later is small and nondescript except for the white funeral flowers adorning several doors. Law swallows any remaining guilt he has over this ordeal as they enter the graveyard. By the time they arrive at the freshly disturbed earth and Doffy uncovers the body, he’s completely numb. 

He tilts his staff at the corpse and pushes just a touch of energy into its nervous system. Law can feel when the motor cortex and cerebellum flick on, and he directs the excess energy to the spinal cord before it flows out to the rest of the brain. The corpse sits up and then removes itself from the grave, all at Law’s command. 

It was a longtime critic of North Blue’s leadership, which is why they’re raising it. Doffy can argue that the Kingdom doesn’t care what happens to those who oppose them, that they’ll desecrate someone’s corpse in an attempt to discredit their legacy, etc. Law doesn’t care about the politics of it all. The only thing he cares about is getting this right. So far, the corpse’s movements have been shaky and uncoordinated, the mark of an amateur job. 

He jots it down in the back of his mind to work on for next time as he leads the corpse into town, where it gets to work vandalizing. With the control he has over his own magic, Doffy is able to make it appear as though the corpse is the one setting things on fire. It’s nothing big this time, just an abandoned shed near a farmhouse, although Doffy does whisper that it belongs to the family of the deceased. 

Law and Doffy stay back as the family runs out to their loved one, panicking and shaking the corpse, which it quite obviously still is. Eventually, a child runs out the front door, into the rest of the town, yelling for help. 

This is the point at which Doffy steps in, a passerby who couldn’t help but overhear the issue. He acts the part well, his typical cold exterior melting off as he asks the child what’s wrong. Other villagers are beginning to crowd around them, offering their support. 

“Is there anyone who has the motivation to do such a thing?” Doffy asks the town at large once the child frantically recounts how their dead father is now attempting to burn down their farm. 

“North Blue itself,” offers a neighbor. “He was never quiet enough. But you don’t think—”

Doffy frowns, taking on a grave expression. “I wouldn’t put it past them. I’ve heard they’ve been getting more brazen. Though having a necromancer reanimate a dead man in order to destroy his own home…” He shakes his head as he trails off. 

“They keep pushing the boundaries,” another townsperson says, and others agree. 

“Well,” Doffy says, “don’t worry. I can redirect this man and lay him to rest once more if the rest of you help put out the fire.” 

Everyone rushes to the task as Doffy walks toward the scene of his and Law’s creation. When Law sees him raise his hand to puppeteer, he releases energy into the corpse’s brainstem, kickstarting it back to life just in time for Doffy to take over. 

His handoff is almost seamless. The corpse only has an instant of sheer panic before Doffy begins controlling it, a moment that claws at Law’s heart before he shoves down the emotion again. Doffy wields control masterfully, allowing everyone to see the man come back to himself before Doffy lightly suggests he walk him back to the cemetery. The townspeople pay him no attention as they throw water on the fire and direct the family away from the blaze. 

Doffy returns after a few minutes, having replaced and reburied the corpse. Everyone crowds around him, thanking him for the help. He brushes it off modestly and then raises a hand to extinguish the rest of the fire. There are gasps, but Doffy goes to the family and talks to them in low tones. He apologizes for the pain they’ve just experienced and vows that he won’t let North Blue get away with disrespecting them. 

They’re appropriately thankful and a townsperson takes the moment to ask just how Doffy was able to do all this. It’s a curious question, not an accusatory one, so Doffy answers diplomatically. He’s a humble Celestial Dragon who’s trying to clean up North Blue, that’s all. Donquixote Doflamingo, the Heavenly Demon, the man who wants North Blue to answer for its crimes—it makes a good story.

At any rate, everyone seems to buy it. Doffy exits the scene with the townspeople fully on his side and condemning the Kingdom. Law emerges from his place in the shadows once people disperse and Doffy heads back the way they came. 

“You did wonderfully, Law,” Doffy says when he catches up. 

Law glows at the praise. “I need to work on my movement coordination, though.” 

“There’s plenty of time for that tomorrow. For now, I think you deserve a full night of rest.” 

Saying “thank you” would be an admission of something; Law’s not sure what. So instead, he moves the conversation to other topics, happy they’re talking like normal again.

\---

Over the next several months, they continue their work. To avoid suspicion, they never do things in quite the same way, but the overarching strokes remain the same. It’s weird to see Doffy always be so charismatic with other people in the Kingdom, making connections and speaking kindly. It’s not like Law never sees that side of him when they’re on their own, but, well, it’s not often. He begins to resent these people, these idiots who sponge up all of Doffy’s good mood and leave Law with the anger and impatience. 

All Law wants is to be enough. It’s all he works toward, all those hours he spends breaking down movements into smaller pieces to make them more fluid. And for fuck’s sake, he _is_ getting better. The difference between that first job and his most recent is noticeable. 

Doffy doesn’t seem to notice, however. He rarely goes so far as to berate Law for his incompetence, but he usually manages to make a few comments about how Law can improve. Even when Law is undeniably helpful, the compliments are backhanded and leave Law feeling worse. 

He suggests that he can call spirits to cause destruction in towns (though of course, Doffy will be the one doing the destruction). That way, they won’t be limited to places with malcontents, and they can claim North Blue is allowing dangerous criminal necromancers to roam free. Although people’s mileage of how they feel about death varies based on their regional culture, necromancy is still a touchy subject and seeing spirits of those passed away is unsettling. 

The response? Doffy tilting his head and saying, “I never thought to try that. I forget that you’re smarter than I give you credit for.” 

It’s then that Law realizes he will never be enough. There will always be something lacking. He leans into this moment of doubt he’s allowing himself and thinks about his family for the first time in several months. 

They’re the only people who have loved him unconditionally. He’s forgotten what that feels like. 

Because while Doffy does love him—he wouldn’t tolerate so many missteps if he didn’t and they do have their good moments together—it’s contingent on Law’s performance. The unspoken pressure is constant and unyielding, and it weighs on Law more heavily with each passing day. 

He remembers how patiently his parents taught him healing. Even when they had to make that strategic decision of which child would receive the cure first, they couldn’t separate their emotions from it. Their love for him and Lami superseded their medical training. 

If Doffy had to make a decision like that, he could do so with no regrets or second thoughts. He knows what’s best, after all.

Aside from Law’s inner turmoil (which is most likely him being childish, so it doesn’t matter), things are going quite well. In addition to their “rescue” missions, Doffy also decides North Blue should be aware of exactly what they’re up against. So he and Law go to supply outposts and Doffy just about burns them to the ground while making sure the guards can see. 

North Blue doesn’t publicize these attacks. It would make them look weak, Doffy explains, since they can’t admit that one single Celestial Dragon can best them so easily. The lack of publicization also means that Doffy’s do-gooder reputation with regular citizens isn’t contradicted.

Those nights, Law doesn’t have much to do, so he practices his control over living people’s vital processes. He doesn’t harm the guards, only makes them nervous. They probably think they’re imagining that they can’t move their limbs, and even then, they’d attribute it to Doffy. 

Doing this still takes Law’s energy, but it’s good to build up stamina, and he can’t slack on the job. Well, he could, except then that would garner a day or so of silence and he hates sitting alone with his self-loathing. He pretends he doesn’t mind it, pretends he _prefers_ being on his own and he likes not having anyone to answer to. Sometimes, he fools himself. He can’t remember what he was like before all this; maybe solitude is his baseline preference. 

After a couple of these attacks, Doffy begins receiving letters from other Celestial Dragons, praising him for taking this initiative. It’s reassuring to know their work is having the desired impact. Law would completely spiral if it wasn’t. 

So he discusses the letters with Doffy and they have lovely conversations about their progress and future potential. Doffy only ever pushes him to do more because he knows that Law can. That’s why he brings up the idea of Law using life energy to make the spirits he calls forth corporeal. 

“I know you, Law,” Doffy says. “You can figure it out.” 

There is honestly no way Law can figure this out, but he’s not going to say that. “Do you have a new strategy?” 

Doffy leans back. “Well, Vergo was telling me that it might be an interesting idea to let people interact with the spirits instead of just seeing them from a distance.” 

“Who?” 

“Oh, have I not mentioned him before? Vergo is my contact in the North Blue governing body. We’ve been working together for years.” 

“Has he known what we’re doing this whole time?” Law’s not _jealous_ of this other man, but this is his and Doffy’s project. Or at least he thought. 

“How did you think I knew where to go?” Doffy shoots back. “I have contacts all over the four Kingdoms, but Vergo is in a unique position of knowing exactly who the Kingdom’s most hated malcontents are. He lets me know when they pass away, which is when we travel to their villages.” 

“Huh.” 

“Did you think we could do this on our own?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Law stammers, caught off guard and not wanting to say the wrong thing. 

“I’ll need many people on my side as the Celestial Dragons retake power.” Seeing Law’s expression, he adds, “But of course, you’re one of the most important.”

Law humbly accepts the compliment, but he knows Doffy, so he knows the message contained within such a statement: he is still just one of many.

\---

Before he can even think about corporeality, Law first has to perfect calling spirits from their plane to that of the living. When he pitched that brilliant idea to Doffy, he thought it would be easy. He thinks too highly of himself; that’s the issue. 

Incantations are a different type of magic than what he’s been practicing, but they’re the key to reach out to spirits. Once he’s in touch with the other plane, he has to actually talk to its residents, and he has enough issues with that when he isn’t asking for favors. 

So leave it to Doffy (and this Vergo motherfucker, whoever _he_ is) to call his bluff. The incantations still don’t sit right in his mouth, and he’s sure the spirits are mocking his novice attempts. Either that or they’re ignoring him completely, because when he blinks his eyes into the spiritual plane, it’s dark and vacant. 

But Law’s best quality is his dogged perseverance, so he rolls the words around until they’re second nature. When the spirits arrive, intrigued by the call, he delivers a script he’s prepared to convince them to work with him. It pays off, and Law soon finds bringing them back to his own plane is easy once he forms that connection. He can strengthen it at will, pushing the magic through him to make the spirits visible. They’re still translucent and floating, but it’s clear they’re people whose images can be used to further his and Doffy’s agenda.

He does end up fussing with corporeality for a while—his other salient traits being his perfectionism and pure obstinance—but it doesn’t make much of a difference. The process has to have something to do with life energy, not just the strength of the connection. None of the spirits he summons are much help in the matter. _Useless_ , Law wants to shout at them, but he knows the truly useless one is himself.

\---

The thing is, Law stopped questioning Doffy long ago. Even if Doffy doesn’t always treat him kindly, he never doubts there’s a reason. He learned his lesson about how the powerful take what they need and that was the only real hurdle. 

So it comes as an honest shock when they’re on a job and Law reverts to the idea that maybe Doffy doesn’t know everything. 

It’s a bigger town than usual, plus the corpse was a dedicated enemy of North Blue. When it was alive, it dealt actual damage to the Kingdom, and it’s widely believed that its death wasn’t natural. All the more reason for people to believe the Kingdom wouldn’t stop its revenge with a simple death, so Doffy should have an easier time spinning his story. 

Beforehand, Doffy warns Law that he needs to be able to protect the corpse’s body from the fire because there’s going to be a lot of it. Hearing that was one thing, but seeing it is another. 

Law recalls the first time Doffy showed off his power and the offhand comment that he could easily raze an entire forest to the ground. That’s not where the doubt comes from in this scenario, because Law can feel the heat of the blaze from his typical position far away from the action. The fire can more accurately be called an inferno with how high it’s reaching and how many buildings it’s spreading to. 

He does his best to keep the corpse distant enough to avoid damage to its appearance. It’s important that people remember who’s responsible for this. 

But then, a scream that’s different from the rest pierces the air. There’s something unmistakably horrifying in it. A girl is yelling that her mother is trapped in their home, shrieking and shaking. Townspeople rush to do something and Law nearly flies into action himself, anything to help this child who looks so much like Lami did before the white lead drove her to death. 

The house collapses. Her mother is still inside, and the house is leveled, and the girl howls. She tries to sprint into the wreckage, but another woman holds her back, barely, due to her own weeping. 

Where the fuck is Doffy? An innocent woman just died and he isn’t doing anything. He isn’t anywhere that Law can see at least. The reality of the situation is beginning to sink in. 

Doffy doesn’t know someone died, but even then, he probably doesn’t care. He would tell Law not to care either. 

But—and here’s the thing rattling him to his core—Law does. Losing a parent is devastating, and nothing is worth that, not even Doffy’s dreams. He’ll eulogize and use this woman’s death to incite people to action and that’s not fucking good enough.

Doffy doesn’t get a chance to answer for this because before Law can find the man, there’s a sharp pain in the back of his head. He falls to the ground and only faintly recognizes blond hair as his world goes black.


	2. law: a dream deferred and reimagined, pt. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the soundtrack for this portion includes “all die young” by smith westerns and “run boy run” by woodkid. i trust you’ll figure out what parts to play them at by titles alone

When Law wakes again, he doesn’t know where he is, but it’s not his room at Doffy’s. His eyes flit around the space frantically, noting the rough-hewn wooden walls, single candle next to his bed, and holes in the roof. Doffy would never put him up in a place like this.

The door opens, and the person entering has to duck their head to fit through. There are only two people Law knows who have to do that. “Roci?” 

“Good morning, Law,” the other man says, voice husky with exhaustion.

“Where are we? Does Doffy know we’re here? And where have you been?” 

Roci holds up his hand. “One question at a time. First: no, Doffy doesn’t know we’re here. Second: ‘here’ is a safe house outside Mariejois. Third: I’ve been investigating the Celestial Dragons’ plans, half of which are being masterminded by Doffy.” 

“Well, if you’re checking up on his plans, then why doesn’t he know we’re here?” Law is confused. 

Roci blinks and looks at Law thoughtfully. “When did I say I was working _for_ him?” 

Of course Law panics when Roci admits to near-conspiracy. He tries to yell for Doffy, but this madman claiming to be his brother clamps his hand over Law’s mouth and holds him while he struggles. Finally, Law bites Roci’s hand and the man releases him. But as Law opens his mouth again, he sees Roci flick a finger at him in a very familiar manner, and then Law feels his lips seal together, not of his own volition. 

“I don’t enjoy doing that and I apologize,” Roci says. “But can you at least listen to what I have to say before you start screaming for my brother?” 

Law, stunned by the revelation that Roci can in fact use magic in the same way as Doffy, nods and feels the invisible thread between them disappear. 

“Thank you. Now—Doffy’s trying to reunify the Celestial Dragons in order to usurp the Kingdom of North Blue and eventually the other kingdoms too.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Law says. 

Roci’s eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean you know?” 

“I mean that Doffy’s told me he wants the Celestial Dragons to rule the world again. I know that’s his eventual goal. It’s part of what he’s training me for. Why did you think I wouldn’t know that?” 

“I wasn’t expecting Doffy to be so forthcoming, because, well, think about it, Law. What place would you have in a society ruled by Celestial Dragons?” 

“A place by Doffy’s side!” Law exclaims. “Like he promised. You don’t know anything, Roci, so just fuck off.” 

“Hm,” Roci says, but he drops the subject. 

\---

“How did you find out about the Celestial Dragons if you didn’t find out from Doffy?” Law asks while they’re eating dinner. 

“I’m a Celestial Dragon too, Law.” Roci smiles at him. “I simply asked some old acquaintances when and where meetings were being held, and I was allowed in because of this.” He pulls back his shirt sleeve to show off a tattoo of a dragon scale that glows like an ember. 

“That marks you as a Celestial Dragon?” 

Roci nods. “It has a special ink that binds with our magic to create this flame gradient. And it can’t be faked, especially since non-affiliated tattoo artists are terrified of retribution.” 

“When did you have it done?” Law tilts his head. “And why? Because it kind of seems like you hate the Celestial Dragons.” 

“I do,” Roci says. “Doffy insisted we get them when we were still kids, after our parents died. He wanted to ensure we didn’t lose our connection to the bloodline. I was younger and didn’t have a say.” 

“Your parents are dead too?” Law asks, and Roci’s usual easygoing expression becomes pained. “Oh. Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.” 

“It’s all right. We should talk about it, but let’s do it another time.” 

Law mulls over what the use of the word “should” might imply, but there’s another train of thought he wants to pursue. “Why does Doffy like the Celestial Dragons and you don’t?” 

“You’re full of questions tonight,” Roci says, and Law looks away nervously. “Hey, it’s not a bad thing! It’s complicated, but basically, I don’t feel like I’m owed anything just because of who my ancestors are. Doffy puts a lot more stock into it. That’s all.” 

“Is that why you don’t use their magic?” 

“Nothing could possibly give me the right to control other people. But my specific ancestry includes water manipulation and I do use that occasionally.” Roci spins a finger above his glass, drawing a small stream of water upward. “My magic is just something I’ve never cared to perfect due to its source.” 

“Hm,” Law says, his curiosity sated for now. He still thinks Roci is being a little dramatic about how bad the Celestial Dragons are. Doffy’s promise to him rings in his head above all else. The Celestial Dragons might be power-hungry egomaniacs, but Law doesn’t really care as long as his objective can be fulfilled. 

Every encounter is transactional. Law will ally himself with whomever he needs, and when their purpose has been served, he’ll move on. Easy. 

\---

The tension in the safe house is mild yet constant over the next couple days. Their conversations are all the same: Law asks why Roci kidnapped him. Roci says the reason he kidnapped Law was to protect him. Law points out that clearly can’t be all because he was plenty safe with Doffy. Roci denies any deeper motive beyond wanting him to be fully informed about the Celestial Dragons. Law says the Dragons can’t be that bad. And then the argument restarts itself thanks to their stubborness. Law feels like Roci should be the adult in this situation, but also Roci has shown fairly poor judgment until this point, so why would that change now? 

Law makes a few half-hearted attempts to get back to Doffy. If Doffy comes to get Law himself, he knows the man will demand to know why he didn’t try harder to leave Roci. But Roci’s with him all the time, and Law has no idea where they are in relation to Doffy’s place. Plus, he wants to dig into Roci’s concerns with his brother, even if he’s currently being tight-lipped. 

The image of the young girl seeing her mother die reappears often enough that Law’s own doubts always have a foothold. Not to the point that he’d denounce Doffy; he needs more proof for something that drastic. As a concession between complacency and escape, Law spends his time trying to work out how to summon spirits more efficiently. That way, Doffy can’t argue that he’s wasting time.

On the third day, Roci receives a letter from a Mariejois acquaintance. There’s a gathering tonight to discuss what actions they should take in terms of regaining power over the Kingdoms. He claims it’ll be a perfect opportunity for Law to see the Dragons’ beliefs and customs firsthand, and Law’s bored enough not to argue. 

To prepare them for the meeting, Roci removes the giant coat he’s always wearing and puts on a button-down shirt, something Law’s never seen before. Its cuffs end just above Roci’s wrists so his tattoo is on full display. Roci actually brushes and styles his hair, and then he does Law’s a little bit too. Law hasn’t seen himself look this formal in years. 

“Here,” Roci says, handing Law a plain black shirt and pair of pants. “Change into this.”

“What’s wrong with what I have?” Law asks. 

“It would reflect poorly on me to have you appear so unkempt,” Roci explains. “If I’m going to bring you, I have to pass you off as my servant, and a servant of a Celestial Dragon would always look presentable.” 

“Doffy wouldn’t make me do this,” Law mutters, and Roci rolls his eyes. 

“If that’s what you think, then fine. But you’re with me, and I’m making you do it.” 

Law turns around and changes into the clothes Roci gave him, but not because Roci told him to.

“Wonderful,” Roci says. “Let’s talk about what’s going to happen when we get there. You _cannot_ talk to anyone unless they directly address you, myself included. I’d also try not to make eye contact if you can help it.” 

“I already don’t like making eye contact with people,” Law points out.

Roci smiles gently. “I’ve noticed; I just thought I’d mention it. When we sit down for the meeting itself, you’re going to have to kneel on the floor beside my chair.” 

“But that’s going to hurt!”

“Yes. And any non-Celestial Dragon attending the meeting will still do so and not complain. I really don’t know how to get through to you that this is how these people believe things should be.” 

“Isn’t that why you’re taking me to this in the first place?” Law grumbles. 

“Partially. I also want you to understand the difference between generations and how we can exploit that.” 

“I don’t know why you keep mentioning this ‘we’ thing.” 

“Oh, sure, it’s your choice whether you want to assist me. I just want to make sure you have the full picture,” Roci says. He then runs through a mental checklist, mumbling things and counting them on his fingers. “Nearly forgot.” 

Roci quickly speaks an incantation from rote memory. He holds his left wrist out in front of him, and out of the tattoo comes a web of shining threads that settles itself over his entire body. Once positioned, the threads coalesce into a complete covering. “Now we can walk into Mariejois.” 

“Hold on,” Law says. “What the fuck did you just do?” 

“If a Celestial Dragon is outside of Mariejois, then they believe they’re breathing the air of commoners. This is the protective spell they use to prevent contamination. Mariejois is covered by a larger version.” 

“I don’t think air works like that,” Law comments, and Roci shrugs. “I know why you wouldn’t, but why doesn’t Doffy use one?”

“He doesn’t see the point when it’s just the two of us and we’re so isolated from everyone else most of the time. But if you look closely when he’s away from home, you can see it.” 

Law files this information away, not least because it proves Roci wrong about Doffy. If Doffy really sees Law as just another commoner, then he would’ve started using that barrier when Law came to live with them. 

Roci glances at him thoughtfully, as if he knows what Law’s thinking. “I’m going to act very unkind to you at this meeting, if you haven’t picked it up yet. I apologize in advance. I wouldn’t do this if there were another way, but there isn’t.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Law says. Roci’s so overprotective. Law’s taken care of himself for a long time now; he’s not a fragile little child. 

They make the trek to Mariejois’s gates without incident. As they approach, however, Roci’s usual slouch straightens into a proud, ramrod straight spine. His expression schools itself into something more haughty and his steps become purposeful, any clumsiness sliding off completely. Law has to walk a lot faster to keep up with him, but Roci appears to neither notice nor care. 

“Ah, Rocinante, the youngest Donquixote!” a guard exclaims once they’re standing in front of the gates. “Always lovely to see you.” 

“You as well, Ena,” Roci says, bringing his voice down to a slightly lower register than Law’s used to hearing. “I’ve brought a servant this time, as you can see.” 

“New?” 

“No, Doffy and I have been training him for awhile. I simply thought it time he saw Mariejois and had practice attending a gathering.” 

“Yes, the gathering, of course.” The guard unlocks the gates, and as Roci steps forward, his protective covering melds into the city’s. “I’ll see you on your way out, I presume.” 

“As always.” Roci gives a small wave as a parting gesture and leads Law to the center of the city. Along the way, he exchanges pleasantries with various city occupants. Law notices several others dressed like him, scurrying behind their masters without looking up. Eventually, they arrive at a large building. 

“It’s a big gathering tonight,” Roci explains quietly. “There’s been several meetings to lead up to this point. The only reason Doffy isn’t here is because he prefers to deal with the aftermath rather than the action itself.” 

Law nods. He’s getting a little nervous to speak, even though Roci said it was okay as long as he was spoken to first. This place radiates old magic—Law’s out of his league.

They walk through the front doors, and yeah, this is a big gathering. Law hasn’t been around this many people in a long time. 

Immediately, a blonde woman wearing a long white dress comes over to speak to Roci. She’s followed by a tall man in a button-down styled similar to Roci’s. “Rocinante! Always a pleasure.” She kisses him on the cheek and Roci follows suit. “And who is _this_?” The woman looks down at Law and it’s like he’s back on the streets. She thinks he’s vermin. 

“A servant,” Roci says, voice smooth as silk. “I’m in the process of training him, so he goes where I do.” 

The woman’s partner takes hold of Law’s arm as if he’s less than nothing. “Oh, and look! A white lead survivor? How exotic, Rocinante.” 

Roci waves his hand noncommittally. “Isn’t he?” 

Law’s skin is absolutely crawling, but he waits for the man to release him. Of course, that’s when the woman takes his chin to tilt his face into the light, examining his skin almost clinically before letting go again. 

“Does the Young Master know you’re borrowing it for tonight?” she asks. 

Roci smiles at her with slightly lowered lids, a picture perfect heir of a long and powerful bloodline. “Doffy and I share all our possessions, as I’m sure you know.” 

The three exchange idle chatter for a few more minutes, but Law doesn’t hear any of it. He has to get out of here. These people see him as an inanimate object. None of them have threatened him, but he’s scared for his life. They’d throw it away so easily.

Finally the couple leaves, and Roci looks at him again. “Sorry about that. I hate schmoozing.” 

Tears gather in Law’s eyes. “Roci, I don’t want to be here anymore. This is—I’m not a _person_ here.” 

Roci’s expression hardens and even though Law knows it’s to maintain their cover in case anyone’s watching, it slices straight through him. “You’ll stay through the meeting, as will I. There’s still much to discuss.” 

\---

Around twenty minutes later, everyone has filed in and taken their seats. Roci’s is near the back of the room, but Law’s sure he prefers it that way. Law kneels down on the floor next to him like Roci told him to, and fuck, his knees are too bony for this. 

Roci notices Law’s agitated shifting, frowns, and snaps his fingers at Law like he’s a dog. Law immediately stops moving and looks down at the ground, trying hard to simply catalogue and then ignore his pain. When he flicks his eyes up again, he notices some of the Celestial Dragons around them looking at Roci approvingly. Law hates it here. As his shoulders hunch the slightest bit, Roci gently lays a hand down on the one closest and Law relaxes again. 

He’ll never tell Roci that he was right to be worried, but Law’s grateful Roci’s paying so much attention to his discomfort around these people.

Someone at the front calls the meeting to order. Law carefully glances up without moving his head. There’s no rule against just looking at these people, but it’s better not to chance anything. Some official words are said about policy and opening the floor for discussion, which will go in order of raised hands and favor those who have not yet spoken. It’s all very civilized, really. 

A young man at the front speaks first. “This mad grab for power at all costs will be detrimental. Don’t we already have the influence we want?” 

An older woman shakes her head. “Speak for yourself, Kenji. Not all of us have the willing ear of South Blue Kingdom officials. Why not push for what we used to have?” 

“Because it’ll pit commoners against us,” a young woman says. “We need to make them believe that our rule is better for them than any of the Kingdoms’.”

“Why should we care what they think?” an old man asks. “We can crush any dissent, if they even manage to raise one in the first place.” 

Law begins to puzzle out the divide that Roci mentioned. The younger generation, of which Roci and Doffy are ostensibly part, wants to do things subtly while the older generation will do anything to get what they want. It’s interesting that Doffy seems to be trying to court both sides of this dynamic. He’ll burn buildings to the ground in a show of power but then pin any damage on the Kingdoms. 

Doffy’s name does come up during the discussion, and it seems that his tactics are faring better with the younger generation, who appreciate his illusions. That’s not to say that the older generation is against him, however much they all continue to argue. The main takeaway is still that he and Roci are up against something really big.

Even worse, it’s a monster that Law helped to create. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t know it was this bad, because he didn’t _care_ how bad it was. Doffy didn’t tell him everything, but Law didn’t ask him anything. The realization that he’s culpable to some degree hurts more than his knees, which have gone somewhat numb. 

Law notes that there are people in both generations who seem to wield some degree of power over the Kingdoms, and they’re the ones most against taking any action. 

“I’m happy with the status quo,” Kenji, the man from earlier, says. “We control a decent aspect of government and it seems like nothing more than a childish ego trip to expect that people will bow down to us.”

Roci chuckles lightly at that, but Law’s the only one who hears.

The meeting ends without any specific resolution; it appears the Dragons are still content with merely airing their grievances and not taking any further action. This isn’t out of line with anything else Law’s picked up on (i.e. their ridiculous idea of air being tainted), since they really just value appearances over all else.

Speaking of appearances, Roci has to make a few more before they leave. Law’s once again subjected to being pushed around like a toy and talked about like he’s not there. Now that he’s tired and in pain, he feels even worse about this than he did before the meeting. He does his best to stuff it under a facade of submission and Roci doesn’t reprimand him again, so he must be at least somewhat successful.

Finally, it’s deemed acceptable for them to leave. They make their way to the gate, Roci regains his magic protective cover, and they traipse out of Mariejois in silence. 

“Let’s never do that again,” Law says once they’re back in the safe house.

“I’m so sorry,” Roci says, hugging him tightly. “Do you understand me now?” 

“Yes.” Law pulls back from the embrace to look Roci in the eye. “What can we do to stop them?” 

\---

They sit down at the kitchen table, and Roci makes Law some tea. Law holds the warm mug in his hands while Roci sits down and makes himself comfortable, and then they begin.

“The issue with my brother, Law,” Roci says, taking a deep drag off his cigarette, “is that he taught you to approach necromancy magic very medically. And that makes sense based on your background, but it’s not the only way.” 

“There are other ways?” Law asks.

“There’s plenty. It’s a very old magic system. Honestly, the way you use it is fairly unique. Most necromancers would use incantations and potions.” 

“I thought potions were just for healing.” 

Roci sits up straighter. “Not always. If you use the right combination of ingredients, you can draw out a different form of life energy than the raw one you’ve been using. Flowers and other plants can help when it comes to revivals.” 

“That seems like it’ll take longer,” Law points out. “And if we’re attacking these people—”

“Oh, no, we’re not going to be attacking Celestial Dragons.” Roci half laughs at the idea. “When I’m talking about this, I’m referring to strategic use, but also what you personally might want to try. Because you don’t have to keep killing other beings to use their energy later.” 

“I don’t?” 

“No. Just because necromancy requires life energy doesn’t mean it requires a specific source of life energy. When you’re summoning a spirit, it doesn’t care whether you’ve just pulled energy from another person or whether you stored it weeks ago via incantations and potions.” 

“Why didn’t Doffy ever teach me that?” Law asks, despite sort of knowing the answer already. 

“Optics. It’s a lot more frightening to see a child kill someone without touching them and then resurrect their corpse to do their bidding than it is to see a child call forth a spirit,” Roci says. “One shows complete control over life and death and one shows communication with only one of those realms.” 

Law stares down at his feet. “I want to be done controlling people.”

“You don’t have to be.” Roci stubs out his cigarette. “In fact, it might be more useful for us to have you—”

“I _said_ I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

Roci diplomatically skirts the issue. “So now that you’re gone, Doffy is going to have to change his strategy slightly. I predict he’s going to try to rely more on his fire and controlling people who are still alive.” 

“Won’t that be more conspicuous?” 

“Well, what other choice does he have? You were an integral part of his plans, so now he has to rework them.” 

Normally, that statement would feel like flattery, but after tonight, Law’s stomach churns. “But we can sabotage him, right?” 

“We can try. One thing I’ve never understood is where Doffy gets his information on where to strike.” 

“Oh, that’s easy,” Law says. “Vergo. The North Blue official.” 

Roci’s face lights up and he grabs Law’s shoulder. “That’s it! That makes this all so much easier.” 

“What am I missing?” 

“Nothing; I didn’t tell you yet. I also have a Kingdom contact, Sengoku, and he happens to be Vergo’s boss.” Roci looks at Law as if he’s waiting for him to be just as excited, but Law’s still not sure where he’s going with this. 

“Okay?” 

“It means we can control what information Vergo and Doffy get, which means we’ll know where they’ll strike next. We’ll be ready for his attacks!”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s good.” Law yawns. He forgot how tired he is until now. “But what are we actually going to do?” 

“We’ll figure it out in the morning,” Roci says softly. “Why don’t you go to bed?” 

It’s the best fucking idea Roci’s had since he kidnapped Law in the first place, so Law does as he suggests.

\---

Roci reaches out to Sengoku and finds that the man has already had suspicions about Vergo, and therefore he’s perfectly happy to only feed him the specific information that Roci provides.

They decide to start small, but not so much that Vergo and Doffy would be suspicious: a nearby village has recently been unhappy with their mayor. 

“Doffy’s going to try and make it look as though the mayor has gone mad and has decided to commit atrocities,” Roci says. 

Law nods. That sounds right. “So he’ll blame the actions on North Blue by having the mayor claim they told him he could do this. And the atrocities will include fire?” 

“Most likely. But that’s easy enough to take care of.” Roci holds his hand out, palm up. The air around them dries out, creating a ball of water in his palm. “We oppose each other quite well, all things considered.” 

“You really lied to me that one time, didn’t you?” 

“Hm?” Roci closes his hand around the ball and it dissipates back into the air. 

“You said you don’t use magic because it doesn’t feel natural. And now I know it’s mostly because you don’t like its heritage. But what you just did, that takes practice, doesn’t it?” 

“I forgot I said that. But yes, it does take practice. And I don’t practice as much as I should. Maybe now’s the time to start, if we want to beat Doffy at his own game.”

“What should I do?” Law asks. “I don’t think I’ll be summoning spirits for the same purpose.” 

“No,” Roci says, “but I have a few ideas.” 

\---

“Help!” Law yells, racing through the center of the small town. 

A few townspeople open their doors. “What’s wrong?” a woman asks, a child clutching her leg. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” Law says, adopting his best worried expression as the spirit whispers, _yes, this is the one_. “I needed to warn you all about what’s coming.” 

“And what’s that?” A man steps out of the building next door. 

“I was meditating in the spirit realm by the woods up there—” Law points for dramatic effect, “—and a spirit told me someone’s going to try and set fire to the town and blame it on the mayor and North Blue.” 

“And what spirit is that, darling?” The first woman sounds like she’s placating him, and Law has to hold back his smirk as he strengthens the connection between him and the spirit he’s brought with him. 

The woman gasps as an elderly man shimmers into sight. “Dad?” 

He nods. “I warned this boy; he was the only one who could hear me. And now we have to warn everyone else.” 

More townspeople are exiting their homes now. “Kaneko?” “Sumi’s father is here?” “We can trust him, right?” 

“Everyone!” Kaneko says. “There is a man approaching who wishes to sow destruction among us during this time of political unrest. We need to take shelter in the community center. This young man has cast a protective barrier around it.” He begins to guide people in that direction, walking (or floating, rather) next to his daughter and grandchild. 

Law stays behind and scans for any stragglers, but the population isn’t large and people are spreading the word quickly. Once it’s clear, he follows the crowd to the building that Roci has already saturated with water, making it essentially fireproof. He nods to his co-conspirator, who’s fussing with the other structures from a rooftop vantage point. 

Kaneko is lightly catching up with all the other villagers as Law takes a seat near the door. Suddenly the man’s head jerks up and he shushes everyone. “He’s here.” 

“Who’s here?” someone in the crowd asks. 

“The man who has come to control our mayor,” Kaneko says theatrically. Law could tell him to tone it down a little, but he’s an old man having fun. No harm in that. “He’s leading Mayor Ito here. We must be prepared to subdue him. Remember: it won’t be Mayor Ito talking.” 

A few of the younger men stand in front of the building and Law peers through a window, lost in the crowd of everyone else doing the same thing. The mayor walks down the street and pauses in front of the welcome crew. The stringwork controlling him is intricate; Doffy has stepped up now that people are looking more closely. 

“What are you doing out, Mayor?” one of the townsmen asks. 

Ito’s face carves itself into a snarl. “I’m sick of everyone’s ungrateful attitude.” 

“That isn’t like you,” another townsman chides. 

“Well, I’ve had enough!” Doffy speaks quite well through the mouthpiece of Ito.

“What are you going to do about it?” the first townsman taunts, preparing the rest to pounce. 

“Burn this hellhole to the ground.” Ito raises his hand triumphantly, but nothing happens. There’s a sad sizzle on the wall Law’s next to, and he can tell Doffy’s confused and frustrated. 

During the anticlimactic moment, the townsmen restrain Ito, and Law sees the strings vanish a moment later. He takes a deep breath, the first since the night began. With Doffy’s departure, a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

Ito comes to and is subsequently released. Kaneko leads everyone outside and explains what they just witnessed was the work of a Celestial Dragon. This sets the town into whispers, but Kaneko assures them that he won’t return. 

“We stopped him together,” he says. “And Ito, I think it’s time to have a frank discussion about next steps with the expansion project.”

Ito promises a town hall will be held tomorrow morning and people disperse, shaking their heads at the events of the past hour. Kaneko has a tearful goodbye with his daughter, telling her that it’s time for him to leave once more. 

Law walks out of town with Kaneko, back to the graveyard. “Thank you for your help,” he tells his elder. “You completely took the focus off me.” 

Kaneko grins. “You’re welcome, Trafalgar, but I should thank you for giving me the chance to see everyone again. I wish you and your guardian the best of luck in the future.” 

With that, Law severs their connection and flops on the ground. Roci returns a few minutes later, also looking exhausted. Both of them pushed themselves tonight: Law maintaining such a solid connection for so long, and Roci drawing a large amount of water into specific targets and then removing it once the danger passed. 

“You did so well, Law,” Roci says. 

Law groans. “Can we wait another month before we do this again?” 

“Don’t worry, we won’t be repeating this exactly.” Roci extends a hand and pulls Law up so they can head back to their campsite. Immediately, Law starts to lose his balance with fatigue. “Oh, you’re worse off than I thought.”

“I’m fine.” Law frowns, but Roci places him on his shoulders regardless. It’s a sweet thought, and Law falls into a light sleep as Roci begins walking. That is, until he gets smacked in the face by a branch since Roci’s got him up so damn high.

\---

Unlike with Doffy, the point of Law and Roci’s actions is explicitly _not_ to draw attention to themselves, which is why they never repeat their actions beat for beat. Sometimes Roci creates a small weather pattern over the town that looks, for all intents and purposes, like a poorly timed rainstorm. On those nights, Law sends non-visible spirits to the residents. They whisper old, forgotten rumors about Celestial Dragons and spur magic users to be on the lookout for people under outside control.

When he’s doing nothing more than this most basic level of connection, Law doesn’t have to be physically near the spirits, so he waits for them further away. They’re thrilled to have the chance to speak to their loved ones again, and Law gives them free rein for a couple hours as long as they fulfill his initial request.

Depending on the size of the job, sometimes Law’s services aren’t needed at all and he’s the one supporting Roci on their walk back to wherever they’re staying. With practice, however, both of them get stronger in their respective fields and these nights become less straining. Law’s calls no longer feel like groping around in the darkness, but rather like being greeted by an old friend (even if the spirits in these towns are strangers).

He’s terrified of encountering Doffy during their sabotages and tells Roci as much. They take protective measures of course, but it’s never going to be completely safe. Roci promises Law nothing will ever happen to him, and he sounds so confident that some of that belief rubs off on Law. 

Additionally, Roci is very understanding of Law’s limitations. He doesn’t push Law to do more than he’s able to, and his comfort comes before all else. Once Law becomes more comfortable using his old magic, he suggests that he can try briefly killing their target so that Doffy can’t control them, and then, once the danger has passed, he can resurrect them again.

“That’s an excellent idea, and under any other circumstances, I’d take you up on that,” Roci says. “But I recall you saying you don’t want to control people anymore, so I think we should pursue other strategies.”

Knowing that Roci pays attention to his desires and that he cares about him outside of his usefulness as a necromancer engenders a deep loyalty within Law. Unspoken in Roci’s promises are the indications that Roci himself will stand between Law and anything that can bring harm to him. As they continue to travel, work, and live together, Law notes a change in how Roci speaks to him: as someone he wants to protect not just because of what Law can do, but because of who Law is. 

The two of them become very honest with each other, more so than they were at the beginning. Law confesses he eavesdropped on his and Doffy’s argument, and Roci apologizes for being so harsh, because Law needed someone who was truly sympathetic, not just wielding it as manipulation. It hurts, hearing from another person just how Doffy treated him. 

(Because Doffy hadn’t been _that_ bad, right? That’s the little kernel that Law holds onto throughout everything. Doffy hadn’t been that bad, because if he had, that would mean Law let himself be taken advantage of for two years. Law came to Doffy of his own volition and that means he should’ve been better prepared for anything that happened. He can’t be that stupid. He isn’t.)

Law catches Roci up on everything that happened after Roci left. It’s all a bit tedious in Law’s mind, but Roci frowns and makes him repeat himself often. Whenever Law tries to brush past particular incidents, Roci doesn’t let him. Instead, he looks Law in the eye and says he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. 

It’s probably kind of him, but Law doesn’t want him to say it. He doesn’t want Roci to be right, and the thought of it brings him to tears. He tries to defend Doffy sometimes, helpless and unsure of what else to do. Roci doesn’t hold it against him; it’s as if he understands exactly what Law’s going through. 

\---

Law comes to a realization after one of their jobs. “He was never going to let me raise Flevance, was he?” 

“Oh, I think he might’ve,” Roci says. “But it probably wouldn’t have been how you envisioned it.” 

“What do you think would’ve happened?” 

“Well, first of all, you wouldn’t even be able to do that for another couple years, right? And it would take a lot of energy. I think he would support you right up until things got complicated. If your revenge plot turned against you, you’d be on your own.” Roci shrugs. “But that’s just a guess. We’ll never know for sure.” 

As Roci speaks, the scene comes into focus in Law’s mind. He’s a teenager, tall and angry and haunted, standing on a hill. There are spirits around him, corporeal and holding weapons the Kingdom left behind after its genocide. At Law’s signal, they rush toward a castle. It’s brilliant, all these people he hasn’t seen in years coming together to deal justice. 

But then, as the Kingdom begins fighting back, teen Law falls to his knees, and current Law knows it’s because the strain is too great. Weapons clatter to the ground as spirits blink back out of existence. Teen Law looks for Doffy and he’s nowhere to be seen. Law was too weak, and Doffy holds no space for those who did not adequately plan ahead. He has no stake in this fight, so teen Law is left to be executed by the Kingdom, just like the rest of Flevance. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roci asks, and Law snaps out of it. 

“Just thinking about what you said.” 

“Is avenging Flevance something that you still want to do?” 

For the first time he can remember, Law isn’t sure, and he says as much. “It’s just something that would take years to perfect, and what if my people didn’t even want to fight like that? I wouldn’t feel right if I had to persuade them to do something so violent.” 

“Surely they’d also want justice to be served.”

“That’s not justice,” Law says after a pause. “It was a few officials who made that call and spread those lies.” 

“And it was a few hundred soldiers who carried them out,” Roci replies. “Shouldn’t they have questioned what they were doing? ‘Just following orders’ is a poor excuse.” 

Law sighs. “You’re right. I just think I should hold off on it for a few years at least. I’m not ready and the Doffy thing is a problem I helped create, so I have to fix it before I do anything else.”

“You didn’t create that problem. It’s older than you are.” 

“But I made it worse.” 

“Law, you’re twelve. Even if you helped my brother terrorize a few towns, you’re far less culpable than he is,” Roci says. “Yes, you’ve made bad decisions. But I promise you Doffy’s made worse.” 

They’ve reached their campsite, and Law sits down on a rock while Roci starts a small fire. “I’m not a kid. I should’ve known better. Didn’t you know better when you were twelve?” 

Roci mulls it over as he encourages a spark into a flame and steps back, taking a seat across from Law. “When I was twelve, Doffy had already killed our father.” 

Law wasn’t expecting that turn in the conversation and recoils. “What?” 

“He did it when I was eight. A knife through the heart. Our mother had died just a few weeks earlier, but that was chronic illness.” 

It’s definitely not what Roci wants him to focus on, but Law (and his medical training) can’t help it. “What kind of chronic illness? That’s not specific.” 

Despite himself, Roci smiles for a second. “That _would_ be your first question. I wasn’t specific because we didn’t know. The healers wouldn’t tell us.” 

“What kind of healers were you going to?” Law asks in disbelief.

“It’s a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it right now?” 

“You already started it. You can’t just start it and then not finish it.” 

“Fair enough.” Roci takes a minute to light a cigarette, a nervous habit. “My mother made the mistake of questioning the traditions of Mariejois. Like you, she thought they were ridiculous. She was too loud about it, and so when she started showing signs of something worse than her chronic pain, Mariejois healers said they had no way of figuring out what was wrong.” 

“Healers aren’t supposed to do that.” 

“Who was going to stop them? My father pleaded with my mother to apologize for her statements, but she said that wouldn’t be honest. Then she died, and my father started to completely lose trust in the Dragons. The issue was she had already put the rest of us on thin ice.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Roci inhales deeply and then releases a large cloud of smoke. “You know how big a deal bloodline is to the Celestial Dragons. Well, a bloodline can be tainted.” 

“So just because your mother had issues with the Dragons, they were going to abandon the rest of you?” 

Roci nods. “And my father was about to make that severance permanent. Doffy didn’t want to let that happen. I didn’t realize how serious he was. I underestimated him. That was the first and only time I made that mistake.” 

“And that was enough for the Dragons to take you back?” Law can’t stop asking questions, but once again, he can’t believe how these people act.

“Officially, we’d never left. Doffy never admitted that he killed our father, and I wasn’t going to tell. No one asked many questions either. He took us to get our tattoos soon after, and our allegiance was fully reinstated.”

“But neither of you live in Mariejois now.” 

“Politics. Doffy enjoys the status of the Dragons, but he disagrees with them on many things. There are plenty of Dragons who don’t live in Mariejois, so we left while we were still on good terms,” Roci says.

Law nods. He’s not as surprised as he should be over the fact that Doffy killed his and Roci’s father. Doffy does what he has to do to survive; it’s one of their similarities. “I don’t know what else to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, it’s pretty late, so you should go to sleep. Tent’s all set up and everything.” 

“Okay. Good night, Roci-ya,” Law says through a yawn, the exhaustion hitting him all at once.

“What was that?” 

“Oh, sorry, I was just saying good night.” 

Roci cocks his head. “No, the other thing.” 

“I mean, I said, ‘Good night, Roci-ya.’” 

“Yeah, that! What’s the -ya thing?” 

Law hadn’t even noticed that he’d done that; it was muscle memory. “It’s just something I like to add onto people’s names. It feels nice to say.” 

“You never use it when you talk about Doffy.” 

“That’s just because he probably wouldn’t like it.” Law fidgets with the edge of his shirt, fully avoiding eye contact. “I don’t say it about or around people who’ll think it’s weird.” 

“And you said it to me.” 

“Yeah, because you’re nice to me and you won’t make me feel like I shouldn’t say it.” Law barely finishes before Roci sweeps him up into a hug. “Hey!” 

“I love you,” Roci says into the top of his head. 

Law rolls his eyes. Roci is making a big deal out of this and it’s not important at all. “You’re such a dork.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Roci sets him down, but he’s still beaming. “Good night, Law.” 

Law enters the tent and goes to bed, but he swears he can hear the other man humming for another ten minutes. 

\---

During their travels, Roci takes the opportunity to follow up on the alternative modes of necromancy he mentioned to Law after they attended the Celestial Dragons’ meeting. He procures a book on alternative life energy sources and they page through it together. 

“See?” Roci says. “You can mix different potions and then use objects with emotion attached to help fuel a complete revival.” 

“I’d still need incantations and a bit of stored energy,” Law points out. “But the stored energy also doesn’t need to be drained from living beings.” 

“Do you want to try a non-medical revival sometime? These ingredients aren’t that hard to find, and we can ask around about spells.” 

Law ponders the question. He hasn’t felt up to doing traditional necromancy for a while, but this isn’t the tradition he’s used to. “Sure.” 

“Do you mean that or are you just saying it?” 

“No, I really do mean it. I need to ease myself back into the magic and this seems like a good place to start.” Law frowns. “Is it weird that I still want to go into healing?” 

“That was always what you wanted to do, wasn’t it?” Roci says. “But you know you’re going to have a harder time doing that now. You’ve already selected necromancy. You can’t try and reach healing magic now.” 

“I can’t?” 

“You didn’t know?” Roci’s forehead is wrinkled. 

“I mean, I just thought if I could learn one school of magic, then I could learn another just as easily?” Law could kick himself. “That sounds stupid now that I say it out loud.”

“If you didn’t know, then you didn’t know.” Roci’s expression changes to one of determination. “But don’t worry—we’re still going to make you the best damn healer anyone’s ever seen. It doesn’t matter if you’re using different magic.” 

“My parents only rarely used magic anyway,” Law says, Roci’s conviction beginning to influence him too. “So yeah, let’s figure out how to revive someone for healing purposes.” 

They grin at each other and Roci ruffles Law’s hair. “We’ll get right on it.” 

\---

A ring of crushed seastone. A sprig of lavender, some leaves of thyme, and a vial of elderberry juice, mixed together in warm water and lightly poured onto the body. Lower life forms don’t require the touch of emotion, so the final step is an incantation that catalyzes the life energy in the stone of choice. The stone must touch the body. Then, step back and wait. 

It’s a process that becomes intimately familiar to Law. The potion ingredients change based on who exactly he’s reviving, but the steps remain the same. No matter how many times he performs the ritual, he feels Roci by his side, congratulating him like he does the first time Law is successful. 

A gasp, a smile when the being opens its eyes, a “you did it!” accompanied by a hug. Yes, the steps remain the same, even when they’re just a memory. 

\---

There are warning signs, but later, Law’s not sure whether they didn’t see them or just chose not to. In the moment, he and Roci are simply caught up in experiencing the joy of an actual mentorship and assume all else will fall into place. 

Sengoku is the first to try and burst that bubble of naivete. In his letters to Roci, he writes that Vergo is becoming increasingly suspicious. He’s pushing at Sengoku for more information, different information, better information. If Vergo is like this, Sengoku says, then surely Doffy must be worse. 

Roci agrees and is more deliberate in what he tells Sengoku to share. He crafts intricate stories and names other potential locations where he knows Doffy won’t take the bait. It’s as though he was expecting to have to do something like this, with how cleverly he weaves his narratives. 

When Law asks about it, Roci waves him off. “I know my brother. I knew we’d have to get more creative eventually. It’s a bit sooner than I thought, but I think Sengoku and I have it handled.” 

As usual, his confidence is contagious with Law, and he simply begins to offer story ideas based on their available information. He has less experience with Doffy, but Roci still finds his thoughts valuable and often tells him as much. 

The second thing that should’ve tipped them off is something only Roci notices. As they approach a supply depot, he frowns. “The air is drier than usual.” 

“Well, it’s the middle of June,” Law says. “I don’t notice it at all.” 

“You wouldn’t. It’s a very small change. I can only tell because of my magic.” Roci pulls a small ball of water into his palm. “See? That took a couple seconds too long.” 

Law doesn’t really see, but he trusts Roci to know when something’s wrong. “So what does that mean?” 

Roci’s expression is grave. “I’m not sure.” 

The topic doesn’t come up again because the depot is near a stream that Roci can use instead and the rest of the operation goes smoothly. 

Several nights later, the third and final thing happens, and this one is obvious and noticeable to both of them: Doffy doesn’t show up. Luckily, it’s just a night where they send in spirits invisibly, so they don’t look like cynics at best or liars at worst. And it’s not like it’s ever a bad idea to warn people of the general danger of the Celestial Dragons, but still. Doffy not coming is unprecedented, and they’re concerned. 

\---

“Can you think of a reason why?” Law asks Roci as the other man lights a cigarette. He shakes his head. 

“Gives us a bit of a night off though, doesn’t it?” Roci’s reassuring smile doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Is it possible the other Dragons have caught up with him?” Law and Roci keep up with the gatherings via word-of-mouth. They both agreed not to attend another one all those months ago, and they’ve stuck to that. But Roci’s acquaintances have been clear that people aren’t happy with Doffy’s more brazen tactics. He’s not trying as hard to weave a narrative, which upsets the younger generation, and since his focus is on that, he’s not creating destruction in the name of the Dragons, which upsets the older one. 

“Maybe,” Roci says. “I wouldn’t rule it out at least.” 

“But it’s not—it can’t be that easy. Can it?”

“Probably not.” Roci squeezes his hand. “Wouldn’t it be nice, though? Not to live under his shadow?” 

Law snuggles into Roci’s side. “What would you do? If you didn’t have to worry.”

Roci doesn’t answer right away, and Law focuses on the feeling of his head rising and falling with Roci’s breaths. “It’s been my whole life, Law. He’s supposed to protect me, and I’ve had to protect everyone else from him. I’m not sure what a life without that looks like.” 

“But?” Law senses there’s more. 

“But I could see myself as a librarian, or anything where I can teach people and help them access information.” His voice is lighter as he continues. “You and me, living far away from here, helping our community? It’s something I enjoy thinking about.”

Roci’s words unlock something deep within Law, a picture of a life he once thought he’d have. Lami always used to want to be a librarian—something Law liked to pride himself on, because he’s the one who read to her most—and they’d draw the house they’d live in and imagine what kinds of pets they’d have. He wants that life with Roci, this man who has become another family member to him. Not a replacement, just an addition. 

“That sounds nice,” Law says, and then, earnestly, “I love you, Roci-ya.” 

Roci kisses the top of his head. “I love you too.” 

The affection of the exchange pains Law after what comes next, but he still clings desperately to their dream of a better life.

\---

With a population of roughly 300,000, Dressrosa is one of North Blue Kingdom’s largest cities. Law has a terrible feeling about it from the beginning. For one thing, it seems like a laughable overestimate of his and Roci’s powers to think that their usual tactics will work. Additionally, he doesn’t like the idea of putting that many people at risk if things go wrong.

Roci and Sengoku have fed Vergo a narrative of a specific path to follow through the town. It makes sense as a story, but Law’s concerned it’ll be perceived as just that. The directions are necessary so that he and Roci don’t overextend themselves, but Doffy doesn’t need such limitations. 

To Roci’s credit, he does ask whether Law can handle summoning so many spirits and promises they’ll find another way if he can’t. The differences between him and his brother are so stark; they show in the sincerity of Roci’s expression. He would never bait Law into saying something he’d be punished for later. 

Law replies that he’s fairly confident he can do this based on how he’s built his strength over the past several months, and again, what a change it is to have allowed this progress to happen naturally instead of forcing it. Before he and Roci head out into the summer evening, they hug and Roci makes him swear that he’ll tell him if anything becomes too much. 

They can see the plumes of smoke before they even get to the edge of the town. Law’s stomach drops because fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Once they break through the forest at the town limits, they can see that it’s even worse. Entire buildings are engulfed in flames and people’s shouts are carried by the wind. The sky glows with the magnitude of destruction. 

Roci sets his mouth in a straight line. “Doffy.” 

A voice cuts through the smoke. “Were you looking for me, dear brothers?” 

It’s not possible, anatomically speaking, but Law feels his blood chill in his veins nonetheless. His throat dries out much faster than it would with just the nearby fire. Why hasn’t he prepared himself better for this possibility?

“Of course,” Roci says, unconcerned. “It’s quite kind of you to present yourself.” 

The smoke clears away enough for Doffy to be visible right in front of them. Law steps behind Roci subconsciously. He’s gripping his staff hard enough to hurt. Roci senses his panic and reaches his hand behind him so Law can grip it. The message he conveys is the same one he’s been saying this whole time: _don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you again._

It’s only in this moment that Law realizes he’s not sure what could happen to Roci if he fulfills that promise.

He hasn’t seen Doffy in half a year, but now it feels like no time has passed at all. Doffy still has the same power over him, the same ability to inspire fear. Law’s brain frantically rewires itself to where it was before Roci tried to explain Doffy mistreated him. 

It all comes rushing back: never being enough, always being too much, being the broken version of himself that believed he didn’t deserve anything. Law can feel the desire to please Doffy and make himself worthy bubbling up. He thought he was fucking done with this. Why can’t he be done? Is he ever going to be done? 

Doffy smiles at Law, like he knows what he’s thinking. _Does_ he know? They’re both tenacious survivors, and this destructive mindset is how Law survived for multiple years. Right now, Law would do anything Doffy asked, just to survive this current confrontation. It’s about safety. All Law wants is to be safe. 

But then he feels Roci squeeze his hand comfortingly, and it’s like an anchor bringing Law back to himself, his actual self. Doffy’s manipulation offers Law neither survival nor safety. Roci is here with him. He can do this. Law squeezes back, returning to the world outside his head. 

It’s not a moment too soon as a hulking figure materializes next to Doffy. Law’s never seen him before, but his very presence is intimidating. 

“Ah, and Vergo, you’re here as well. Good evening.” Roci still sounds calm, but his hand is shaking a little in Law’s grasp. The sensation sparks something deep within Law, a desire to do better by this guardian than he did by his parents in Flevance.

“Rocinante.” Vergo nods, but his voice carries the weight of everything Law and Roci have done in the last half year.

“You two have made my and Vergo’s lives very difficult, you know,” Doffy says, his smile sharpening to a point of no return. “Betraying and sabotaging me? I expected better.” 

“As have I, many times over our years together,” Roci says. 

“Oh, our circumstances are quite different. When have I ever set you up to fail? Made you look like nothing more than a fool?” As Doffy speaks, the initial spark in Law catches into a small flame and begins to burn hotter. 

“My intention was to stop you from hurting innocent people in your path to tyranny. Don’t twist it into an attack on your character.” 

Doffy scowls. “So what, you ran to the North Blue government to stop me?” 

“I was only following your example, big brother.” Roci’s laying it on thick, probably because he has nothing to lose. Law wants to think it’s confidence that they’re both going to make it out of here alive and intact, but the twist in his gut tells him that’s not the case. 

Vergo takes a step forward. “Now is that any way to speak to him?” Roci adjusts his stance ever so slightly, releasing Law’s hand. 

“I promised him he could get a few kicks in,” Doffy says, waving his hand at Vergo. “It’s the least he deserves after the embarrassment you put him through.” 

As Vergo’s hand forms into a fist and he pulls back to swing at Roci, Law drops his staff and holds both his hands out in front of him, yelling, “Don’t hurt him!” The magic surges through him, carried by the heat of his emotions. He closes his eyes and reaches to Vergo’s circulatory system, pressurizes it until there’s nowhere for its contents to go except outward, like steam from a kettle. 

Law’s eyes open just in time to see Vergo burst, his body split apart by the force of his own blood. Vergo’s eyes catch Law’s in his last seconds, huge and terrified, but his head isn’t safe from the explosion either; the blood brain barrier punches a hole straight through the organ that controls all life functions. 

“Law!” Roci only just manages to catch him before he falls to the ground. Such an immediate and violent use of his magic has drained him completely. He hadn’t been thinking. Fuck, how is he going to be able to protect Roci from Doffy now? 

“Quite impressive,” Doffy sneers, seething with his quiet anger. “A pity you’ve wasted your talents by aligning yourself with my other traitorous brother. And wasting them on Vergo of all people—surely you see the depth of your mistake here.” 

“He was going to hurt Roci,” Law manages to get out. “And fuck you. Bastard.” 

“It would be so easy to end this little charade right now, Law,” Doffy says. “I could kill you and it would take nothing. You’ve already exhausted yourself.” 

“Doffy.” Roci’s voice is darker and more furious than Law’s ever heard. It’s a strong warning, but Doffy ignores it. 

“Play with the adults and face the consequences,” Doffy continues. “Isn’t that fair?” 

“You’re not going to fucking touch him,” Roci says. “You’re the one who brought him into this damn mess. Don’t act like he’s on equal playing ground now.” 

“I can speak for myself,” Law protests. “Roci, let me help you, I swear I’m fine.” But he undercuts himself with a violent tremor and he can see in Roci’s eyes that he’s lost the battle. 

Roci fully turns away from Doffy so he’s only looking at Law. “Believe me when I say you’ve done plenty. I’ll handle the rest.” He smiles, wobbly at first, but it evens into his familiar grin. “I love you, Law. Don’t forget that.” 

“I love you too,” Law says and tries to smile back, but dread lines his stomach as Roci faces Doffy once more. He’s watched this scene transpire with different actors, and he’s not ready for Roci to play his part.

Roci steps in front of him, blocking him from Doffy’s line of sight. “Leave him alone. It’s me you want.” 

“Astute as always.” 

Whispering rather than turning his head, Roci tells Law to run. And if this is all he can do for his beloved mentor, then so be it. Law picks up his blood-spattered staff and pulls himself away, into the cover of smoke. He stumbles to a nearby tree and places himself behind it. It’s far enough away that Doffy would only be able to see him if he really tried, but that also means that Law has to concentrate to see him and Roci. He’ll squint as long as he can, though. Roci isn’t going to face his brother alone. 

Regardless of whether Law can see, he can still hear the ensuing argument. “Didn’t want him to see you die, Roci?” 

“You sound so certain of the outcome.” 

“Your false bravado is almost endearing. You know it won’t do you any good.”

“Do you really want to do this again? Wasn’t our father enough?” Any remains of Roci’s stoic exterior are gone. 

“That old fool would’ve ruined us. We would have been nothing. And now you want the same.” 

“Why is being something so important to you? It can’t be worth all this.” 

“It’s what we’re owed,” Doffy says placidly. “We’re descended from the most powerful beings in existence. Why are you content to live life as a commoner?” 

“Because it means I can love people without constantly pushing them to be worthy of my time!” 

Doffy scoffs. “Love is a choice, Roci. I choose to love people for what they can offer me. Is that wrong? As blood, I’ve cut you a lot of slack, but some things can’t be forgiven.” 

“All I’ve done is disagree with your decisions. Have you only loved me because you thought I’d always follow you?” Roci sounds heartbroken, but resigned to the truth nonetheless. 

“You’re my younger brother. I’ve protected you all these years, and this is how you show your gratitude?” 

“Gratitude for what?” Roci yells. “Your attempt to ingratiate us into a group of narcissistic bloodline supremacists? Killing our father? Killing innocent people? What exactly am I supposed to be grateful for? I would’ve stopped you sooner if I could. It’s my fault for being so weak.” 

Doffy bares his teeth. “Don’t worry. You won’t feel guilty for much longer.” 

Law’s stomach nearly crawls out his throat as he has to force himself not to scream. Roci says something too quietly for him to make out, but Doffy hears it loud and clear, if the sudden hatred in his features is anything to go by. 

There’s a brilliant flash of fire, and Law watches the person he loves most in the world fall to the ground with a knife through his heart. He shoves a fist in his mouth, biting down hard to distract himself from sobbing. Roci can’t— he won’t let— they were brothers, how could—

“Law!” Doffy yells and he freezes, all emotion except fear draining out of him. “I know you’re out there!” 

Law hardly breathes. He tucks his body behind the tree entirely. There’s nothing left for him to see, and his number one priority is waiting for Doffy to leave so that he can revive Roci. Exactly how he’s going to accomplish this, he’s not sure, but he’ll figure something out. He’d move mountains to save this man. 

“Fine, keep hiding,” Doffy calls, “but at least see this.” 

He leaves no time for Law to readjust himself, but Law quickly understands what he’s doing as he feels the intense burst of heat and hears the snap of skin melting and bone shattering. His last shred of hope evaporates, and Law begins crying in earnest, with sobs so deep they don’t even make sound.

After a minute, the heat dissipates, but the scent of burnt flesh hangs in the air. “Good luck bringing the backstabbing jackass back to life now,” Doffy says, voice cold. “I’ll find you eventually, Law. At any rate, I anticipate our next meeting will be much shorter.”

If he says anything else, Law doesn’t hear it. He’s too busy running from the ruins of Dressrosa, his mentor’s incinerated body, and the man who killed him. Once again, he’s lost his family, but this time, it was to another family member, not nameless officials. He nearly throws up, remembering how blindly he trusted Doffy for so long. 

Gods, he’s not going to survive this. What the fuck is he supposed to do now? He has nothing and no one, just a sorcerer determined to kill him. At the back of his mind, it occurs to him that this adrenaline won’t last forever and then running is going to get much more difficult. 

He ignores the thought. He runs and runs and then he stumbles, but he keeps moving until he’s disappeared into the trees completely.


	3. law: a dream deferred and reimagined, pt. iii

Law is... 

Hm. 

Law is haunted, but he feels more free than he has in a long time. Law is safe, but he constantly looks over his shoulder. Law is angry, so angry that he nearly boils over with the heat of it, but to outside observers, he exudes nothing more than a vague dissatisfaction at any given time. 

Law travels to another city, far enough away that he hopes Doffy can’t locate him, and then he travels to another, and another after that, until he’s no longer under the purview of North Blue. Law has good days and bad days and he can’t keep track of which type he experiences more often since there’s no discernible pattern. Law creates his own routines and it helps him feel more in control of this life, which is his and no one else’s. Law learns to like silence again, now that it doesn’t carry the tension of unknown yet still failed expectations. Law shakes with words unsaid, carries them until he bursts. 

Law settles down and finds the nearest library in town to continue studying alternate pathways of magic, ones that are less harmful and emphasize the kinder side of necromancy. Law realizes he has no idea who he is, hasn’t had a sense of self since Amber Lead Syndrome dug its claws into his life. Law wanders the streets at night sometimes, driven by a feeling that, in some unspeakable way, he’s bereft. Law avoids the pressing thought to use his powers on himself as a form of punishment. Law begins to heal, slowly and unsurely. 

Law decides that no one inherently deserves his forgiveness; it must be earned. Law knows Doffy will never do anything to earn it. And ever since Law was a child, he’s had an excellent memory—Law _never_ forgets how he’s been wronged. 

\---

Over the next few years, Law stakes out a living on the darker side of healing and rebuilds himself as he builds his medical practice. He heals people for little money; they’re at the end of their rope if they’re coming to a necromancer for help. Despite this objective kindness, he takes care never to show it in his mannerisms and demeanor. If he learned anything useful from Doffy, it’s that a heart on the sleeve is a recipe for disaster. 

He’s able to do more of these reflections now that he’s further removed from the situation. Initially, he could only just manage to get through the day, but now he has the capacity to analyze where he went wrong. His first mistake was being blinded by his passion to avenge Flevance. Doffy was able to wield that passion against him, use it as a cover for why he truly wanted Law to learn necromancy. His second mistake was really an extension of the first: he was too emotional and that allowed Doffy to manipulate him further. No, it’s safer to put up a mask to the rest of the world.

So Law becomes somewhat soft-spoken and never reveals the true extent of his powers. He’s a bit of a puzzle to the general community, and it’s reassuring to know no one can read him. He can’t get hurt that way. 

On his meaner days, Law despises himself for taking such measures of protection, but anxiety always wins over derision. Who cares if he spends most of his time alone? Isn’t he _tired_ of caring for people and then having them ripped from him? He can’t have that happen again, can he? 

His grief over Roci is ever-present, only slightly diminished by the time passing. Law loved— _loves_ —Roci so much it hurts. That’s why it’s so upsetting when he begins to get fuzzy on tiny details: his vocal tics, how it felt when they hugged, his favorite color… the list goes on. None of them are particularly significant on their own, but added together, Law worries he no longer has the full picture of Roci. 

He still has the big picture, of course, the one of Roci putting himself between Law and Doffy, turning to Law and telling him that he loved him and he’d be okay, but insisting that Law had to run. Fucking idiot. Law cycles between anger and bargaining over Roci’s death. He’s never been the type to deny, and the depression is a separate beast. 

Bargaining is perhaps immature of him, but Law desperately wants one last chance to talk to him. He said “I love you too,” but he never got to say anything else. He wants to say, “Thank you for loving me when I made it difficult.” He wants to say, “You encouraged my growth and believed in me.” He wants to say, “I miss being able to talk to you most of all, and you’re never going to guess what I’m accomplishing.” 

And the thing is, Roci knew all of that. Law _knows_ he knew. It’s just that Law is both selfish and intensely literal. He wants the emotional resolution of saying these things to Roci and hearing the response. 

As a necromancer, this is something he can actually do. He plays with the idea more often than is healthy, summoning Roci for that conversation. But every time he starts to reach into the realm, he chickens out. He should’ve done more to keep Roci from dying. What if Roci doesn’t forgive him for that? It’s an endless back-and-forth, his fear versus his actual knowledge of Roci that says he would never be upset with Law for something Doffy did. 

Outside of that argument, Law feels like he’d be fucking up some unknown process if he called Roci back to the land of the living. It wouldn’t be good for his grieving process to know unequivocally that Roci could be with him all the time if Law had the strength for it. Right now, it’s a mystery that he doesn’t want to unpack. As it is, trying to work through his dual griefs is hard enough. Why make it worse? 

In his free time, Law scours the newspapers for information on Doffy’s attempts to reunite the Celestial Dragons. After all, Roci dying did nothing to stop him, as noble an attempt as it was. Maybe Vergo’s death had an impact, but maybe that’s just Law praising himself. There are news items here and there of small Celestial Dragon gatherings and towns burned to the ground overnight. Doffy’s name is never explicitly attached, but Law knows he’s behind all this. 

Even if Doffy lost the two people he thought he could count on to assist in his desire for power, Law knows he’s not going to let that stop him. The tie that binds him and Law has always been their simmering desire for revenge. In these years after he’s left, Law’s beginning to understand Doffy’s patience when it comes to these matters, and he’s willing to play the waiting game for as long as Doffy will.

\---

One day, while Law’s paging through a book on different flower species and their uses in magic, he hears a slight commotion. He looks through the window of the library and sees two boys his age taunting what appears to be a small polar bear. Still filled with guilt about all the creatures he killed under Doffy’s mentorship, Law quickly makes his way outside. He’s determined not to see another innocent being suffer on his watch. 

However, once he can more properly listen to the bullying, he realizes the bear can talk. The boys are mocking him for not being able to return to his human form, meaning he’s a druid, not mere wildlife. 

The bear clenches his fists. “I _can_ change forms, okay? You guys just aren’t letting me focus enough!” 

“Then go ahead. We’ll wait,” one boy says. He’s wearing a hat that partially covers his eyes and the way he lazily grins reminds Law of Doffy a little too much. 

Both boys stand in silence for a few minutes while the bear closes his eyes and frowns, clearly trying as hard as he can to return to his human form. Eventually, he opens his eyes again and growls in frustration. 

The other boy laughs. He’s wearing sunglasses, so Law can’t make out his expression. Yet another familiarity. “That’s pathetic.” 

Enough is enough. Law strides forward, planting his staff firmly on the ground when he’s in front of the three boys. “What’s going on here?” 

Hat only spares him a glance. “Get out of here, kid. It’s none of your business.”

Law draws himself up to his full height. “Oh, really? Because it seems like you’re harassing him for something stupid.”

“Do you want us to _harass_ you instead?” Sunglasses asks. “Because that can be arranged.” 

Law smirks. “Go ahead and try.” 

Hat laughs. “And what is your scrawny ass going to do?” 

Sunglasses attempts to use this chance to take a swing at Law, but Law raises his hand and prevents the other’s arm muscles from contracting, leaving him frozen and confused. When Hat runs toward him on his other side, he slams his staff into the boy’s ribs, knocking him over. 

The bear is staring at him wide-eyed. Has no one stood up for him before? 

Law keeps Sunglasses still while he kicks him in the stomach, pushing him to the ground. It’s cheating a bit, but Law never promised a fair fight, and besides, these dumbasses underestimated him. 

Hat sits up and opens his mouth to speak, but Law raises his left hand again and makes his vocal cords rigid. The boy touches his hand to his throat, but nothing comes out. Angry and nervous, Hat still gets to his feet, clearly preparing to attack him again. How annoyingly persistent. 

Law goes low this time, using his staff to sweep the boy’s feet out from under him. Sunglasses grabs the end of it, so Law punches him in the face, connecting solidly with his cheekbone. With both bullies lying on the ground, Law offers some parting words. “Leave this boy alone and think twice about picking a fight next time.” 

He turns to the bear. “Come with me to my clinic so I can make sure you aren’t hurt.” 

The other boy nods and follows Law down the street, sparing only one more glance at the two boys on the ground. 

\---

Law finds out that the bear’s name is Bepo and that he’s also without a family. The way he looks around admiringly at Law’s tiny home indicates he has no place of his own, so Law asks him to stay. He’s nearly as surprised at the offer as Bepo is. Clearly, he’s been lonelier than he thought. 

Nevertheless, Bepo accepts, and Law sets to work making up a second bed and telling Bepo where everything is located. The druid is attentive and also curious about Law’s healing work. Like his parents did for him many years ago, Law begins to teach Bepo the basics, having him observe him and his patients. Bepo proves to be a very useful second set of hands, and Law’s reassured in his choice of companion. 

When Law sees Bepo’s human form for the first time a few days later, he panics. In his defense, he’s just woken up to a strange teenager he’s never seen before standing over him. “Who the _fuck_ are you?” Law yells as he sits up frantically. 

“Oh, sorry.” The teenager looks sheepish. “It’s still me. Bepo, I mean. I forgot that you aren’t used to this form.” 

Law breathes out, feeling the adrenaline rush fade. “It’s okay. What did you need?” 

“You know how you defended me from those other two guys?” 

“I recall,” Law says. 

“Well, they’re at the front door,” Bepo says. “I told them to wait while I got you.” 

“Did they say why they’re here?” This is way too confusing a conversation to be having right now. Law sincerely hopes they’re not seeking retribution because he’s exhausted and uninterested. 

Bepo shrugs. “Should I ask them?” 

“No, it’s all right.” Law steps out of bed, pulls on a shirt, and grabs his staff. “I’ll ask them myself.” He walks out of the room, Bepo following anxiously behind. 

“What do you want?” Law asks once he’s opened the door. 

“Good morning to you too,” Sunglasses says. 

Law rolls his eyes. “Oh, sorry. Good morning, what do you want?” 

Hat looks embarrassed, but presses on regardless. “We just wanted to say that—well, we think the way you beat us up the other day was really cool.” 

Okay, now this is _definitely_ too confusing of a conversation for early morning. Law cannot function on this level of bullshit. “What?” 

“You controlled our bodies, man!” Sunglasses says. “And you did it like it was nothing.” 

“Yes,” Law says. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 

“We just want to be part of whatever you have going on,” Hat says. “Like, you have to lead an adventuring party or something, right?” 

Law’s voice is flat. “I’m sixteen. I run a clinic where I use my experience with necromancy to heal people in a slightly different way than mainstream healers would. I’m flattered that you’ve come all the way here, but I’m not what you’re looking for.” 

He tries to close the door, but Hat is faster and shoves his foot in the doorframe. “We can still help you in the clinic.” 

Why are these two being so insistent? “From the way you treated Bepo-ya, I’d say your bedside manner leaves something to be desired.” 

“Look,” Sunglasses says, “we know we fucked up. But you opened our eyes to that and we want to get to know you better.” 

“People usually don’t want to do that,” Law says. 

“Well, we do,” says Hat. 

It’s early and Law’s fucking tired of arguing with these people. He just wants some tea to wake him up properly. “You know what? Fine.” If they turn out to be really awful, he can always get rid of them later. 

Sunglasses smiles. “Awesome!” 

“But I’m not the one you’ve wronged,” Law says. “Is there anything you want to say to Bepo-ya?” 

His assistant shakes his head almost imperceptibly, but this is something Law feels strongly about. He’ll muster the energy to kick these two out right now if they don’t actually apologize to Bepo for being so rude. 

“We’re really sorry for bothering you. It was inappropriate of us to tease you for something that was out of your control.” Hat says, and he’s really just full of surprises, isn’t he? Law expected a half-hearted statement that didn’t take any responsibility. Maybe he needs to stop judging people so quickly. 

“Yeah, what he said. We promise we’ll be more respectful in the future.” Sunglasses looks right past Law to speak to Bepo directly. 

“Thank you,” Bepo says, and then he smiles. “Do you want to come in for breakfast? I haven’t started cooking yet, but it won’t take long.” 

As the two cross the threshold into Law’s home, he’s overcome with a premonition that they’re never going to leave, yet it’s not entirely an unwelcome one. 

\---

Law really worried this would end up being a mistake, but Penguin (Hat) and Shachi (Sunglasses) are determined to prove their worth. They’re adept at finding herbs and other ingredients that Law needs to practice his spells with, and they’re decent inside the clinic too. 

Bepo becomes the face of the clinic; although he’s quieter, he’s also a lot friendlier than the other three teens. Law’s grateful some of the focus is taken off him, even if he’s still doing the same work he’s been doing. With everyone’s help, his work becomes more efficient and he’s able to take a wider variety of clients, including some that can afford to pay better. It’s not a moment too soon, because four people eat a lot more than just Law. 

Four people also talk a lot more than just Law. Once Bepo really warms up to Shachi and Penguin, the three are constantly in the middle of some heated conversation that Law only tunes into halfway. He learns to get used to one of them suddenly turning to him and asking, “Well, what do _you_ think, Law?” 

Once he asks them to clarify what they mean, the questions run the gamut from mildly ridiculous to completely nonsensical. Penguin hotly asks whether a bear or a hippopotamus is the most deadly animal (he says hippo, Bepo says bear, and Shachi says a shark would kill both of them). Shachi demands to know what Law thinks the correct way to say caramel is (he says care-uh-mel, but Bepo and Penguin say kar-muhl). Bepo wants to call Penguin’s bluff on being able to juggle scalpels (Penguin insists he can and Shachi corroborates this claim, much to Bepo’s consternation).

Regardless of how strange the questions are, Law still gives his answers (hippo, there’s no such thing as a “correct” pronunciation but I say care-uh-mel, and are you fucking kidding me— _no_ , respectively). Over time, he grows to appreciate the absolute inanity of it all. The other three teens treat him like, well, a normal teenager. He’s allowed to mess up around them; the harshest reprimand he receives is a “next time you try this spell, please don’t light the fire so close to my blanket” from Penguin. They’re all very encouraging when it comes to his magic, giving him extra motivation to keep learning. 

Law feels himself starting to open up more. At first he tries to stop himself, but he figures he’s already halfway to being attached to these people, so it’ll be painful if they leave no matter what. He lets slip in conversation that his mother’s favorite flowers were lilies, that his father always used to ask patients what their goal for their care was, and that Lami’s favorite animal was a tiger. The other three happily build off the conversation from there and don’t pry further, and Law becomes even more comfortable. 

Eventually, he decides to bring up the white lead thing. There’s been a decent amount of patients who panic when Law rolls up his sleeves—somehow the patches on his face warrant less comment; maybe those look less sickly—but the others have always jumped in to angrily inquire whether they’ve heard of vitiligo. The patients then act ashamed for making assumptions, and Law thinks Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi assume Law’s just embarrassed about having a skin condition and that’s why they defend him so harshly. 

(And it’s not that he wants to hide the truth from patients; he just worries if word got out about a survivor, then Doffy would hear about it.)

“You know my vitiligo?” he asks, and they all nod. “Well, it _is_ actually a result of Amber Lead Syndrome. I’m the sole survivor of the disease. But please keep telling everyone it’s unrelated vitiligo.” 

Law expects this will be the breaking point and they’ll ask further questions, but they still respect his privacy. 

“Sure, man,” Shachi says, and Penguin gives a thumbs up. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t ask you what you wanted us to say before now,” Bepo says, and Law assures him they’ve handled it perfectly, but he just wanted them to know because he trusts them with that information. 

They all look so touched at that statement that Law’s almost embarrassed. 

\---

Four years to the day that Roci was killed, a girl comes pounding on their door, saying her grandmother needs help immediately. Law brings them inside and leads the grandmother to sit on the examination table. She has several gashes on her arms and legs, and she faintly tells him she fell off an overlook near their house in the woods. The granddaughter’s panting heavily from having carried her the entire way here. 

Shachi helps Law sew up the wounds once Penguin’s cleaned them out, and Bepo brings the girl a glass of water and works to calm her down. She tells him that her name’s Ikkaku and then, more softly, since her grandmother’s still awake, that she’s worried that the woman is falling more frequently and she doesn’t know what to do. 

“We can’t afford a lot of medical treatment,” Ikkaku says. “I only knew to come here because I heard that you’re understanding about that kind of thing.” 

“Of course,” Bepo says. “Don’t worry about paying us for today. We’re just glad you came in time.” 

Penguin looks up from where he’s washing his hands. “Do you think a walker might help?” 

Ikkaku shrugs helplessly. “I mean, probably, but again, we can’t afford—”

“Whoa,” Penguin says. “I know you can’t. I was asking because Shachi and I can whip one together in the next couple of days and bring it out to your house. You said it’s not that far, right?” 

“It’s about an hour’s walk. Or a forty five minute run. It’s pretty secluded.” 

“You must be really strong to have run the entire way here while carrying someone,” Bepo says admiringly, and Ikkaku waves him off. 

“I’ve just been working on my family’s farm for as long as I can remember,” she says. “But are you being serious about the walker? That would be incredibly kind of you.” 

“Of course! It shouldn’t be that hard, right, Shachi?” Penguin turns toward the other boy.

“Mm, I don’t think so,” Shachi says haltingly, still focusing on tying off his stitches. “We can ask around for models to use as a base.” 

“Would you be interested in using a walker?” Law asks the patient, Zahra. He’s only given her local anesthetic, so she’s perfectly conscious. 

Zahra sighs. “If it would make everyone stop worrying about me so much.” 

Law gives his work a final once-over and wipes down her legs. “I’ll come see you this time next week and we’ll get these stitches out, all right?” 

Ikkaku gives them directions to her home as she helps her grandmother off the table.

“Do you need any help getting home?” Bepo asks the pair. 

Ikkaku shakes her head. “It’ll be okay. We can hitch a ride pretty far out. And thanks again for today.” 

The boys wave good-bye to Ikkaku and Zahra as they slowly make their way out the door and down the street. 

“Where were you thinking about asking for models?” Penguin asks Shachi as he and Law wash their hands. Bepo starts wiping down the examination table. 

“I was thinking either the carpenter or the blacksmith depending on what material you want to use.” 

“Would we have to worry about the metal rusting?” 

“Depends.” Shachi dries his hands off and walks outside with Penguin, the two continuing to discuss logistics. 

Law straightens up the workspace again, putting his thread and scissors back away. It doesn’t hit him until an hour and two patients later, elbow-deep in blood, that Shachi and Penguin have left him two pairs of hands short. Good deeds never go unpunished. 

\---

That night, Law smells smoke and jolts out of bed. No. Doffy can’t be here. Could he? Law shakes the other three awake. “We have to get out of here.” 

“What are you on about?” Penguin asks, sleep still coating his words. “Someone’s just having a bonfire, s’all.” 

“No. We need to leave.” Law begins throwing his clothes into a bag. 

“Law, are you okay?” Bepo touches his arm lightly. 

“I’m fine!” Law throws his hand off and moves to the kitchen to grab some food. He quickly glances back at his companions and sees them all looking at him worriedly. “Really, I’m fine. I just think we need to get out of here while we still can.” 

“Do you want to explain why you think that?” Shachi says. 

“Do none of you read the newspapers?” Law demands and then doesn’t know why he bothered asking a question he knows the answer to as they all shake their heads. “Someone’s been burning towns to the ground in a single night. This one might be next.” 

“Wouldn’t we hear people panicking if things were going up in flames?” Penguin has a point. 

Law opens the front door carefully and is greeted by a calm and cool summer night. There’s no ominous reddish-orange glow coming over the horizon and most importantly, no Doffy. _Oh._ He turns back to his friends. 

Bepo tries to be as gentle as possible. “Is… there something you want to talk about?” 

Law closes the door and sits down among their beds. “I just don’t like fire, that’s all.” True to form, they don’t ask anything else, but they do wait for him to say something further. So he does. “I’m the sole survivor of Amber Lead Syndrome because North Blue Kingdom burned down my town before anyone else could be healed.” 

“That’s fucked up,” Penguin says. “But what’s with this thing where all these other towns are getting burned down?” 

“Well,” Law says, “technically it’s nothing, just a bunch of random incidents.” 

Shachi frowns. “But you don’t think that.”

“No. I think it’s, um, Donquixote Doflamingo.” Law’s throat is dry. 

“The Heavenly Demon himself?” Penguin asks, and Law can’t keep himself from cringing. 

“Yeah. Him. Part of his sorcery allows him to control fire and he uses it a lot.” He clams up after that; he’s said more than he was ready to and the others can tell.

“Well, he’s not here, right?” Bepo says. “It’s just a bonfire, like Penguin said.” 

Law nods. 

“Do you want to sit with us for a while instead of going back to bed?” Shachi asks. 

Law nods. 

“I can make some tea, if you want some,” Penguin says. 

Law nods. 

They fuss around him for a few minutes while trying not to make it obvious that’s what they’re doing. Shachi wraps a blanket around him while Penguin boils some water, and Bepo sits down next to Law and puts his arm across his shoulders. Despite the late hour and surprise awakening, they all start talking like they usually do, about something completely nonsensical and unrelated to what just happened, and Law feels his heart rate return to normal. 

He’s still not ready to start talking yet, but he laughs along to their conversation. These are his friends, and they care about him, and he’s safe. He forgot love could feel this good, but they’re here to remind him. 

\---

Penguin and Shachi finish Zahra’s walker a few days later, and Law decides to close the clinic for the afternoon so they can all take a much-needed break and make the walk out to her house together. The forest is more beautiful than Law remembered, but he still feels anxious at the sight of small animals. Thoughts of the most efficient way to kill them crowd into his mind, and he reaches out to Bepo’s hand to distract himself. His friend doesn’t question the gesture.

Like Ikkaku said, after about an hour, they wind up at a small farmhouse. Zahra’s sitting on the porch and waves at them as they approach. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Penguin says.

“Good afternoon, boys. I see you’ve brought a gift?”

Shachi nods proudly. “Yes! We made you a walker.” 

Zahra stands up, and they quickly place it in front of her. She shuffles across the porch with it, and the two amateur craftsmen walk along either side of her, watching like hawks to make sure she doesn’t fall. “It’s a good fit so far, but if you help me down the steps, we can try it on a more bumpy terrain.” She turns to Bepo and Law. “Ikkaku should be in the kitchen, if you want to bring her out here to see what she thinks.” 

As Shachi and Penguin guide Zahra down the steps, Law and Bepo enter the house and find Ikkaku cutting vegetables on the kitchen counter. She looks up as they walk in. “Oh, hello! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” 

“Shachi-ya and Penguin-ya finished the walker this morning and they were so excited to show Zahra-ya, they insisted on bringing it out here this afternoon,” Law explains. 

“That’s so kind of them. Are they with her out front?” 

Bepo nods. “Zahra wanted us to get you so you can see for yourself.” 

The three of them return to the porch and see Zahra making her way around the yard. Penguin’s still watching to ensure she won’t fall, but Shachi is scribbling on a notepad. 

“How does it feel, bibi?” Ikkaku asks. 

Zahra turns to them. “It’ll do the job, but it doesn’t move as well on the grass.” 

Shachi looks up from his notepad. “I have some ideas for how to fix that, and I can bring the materials when we come back out here to remove Zahra’s stitches.” 

“Would you like to sit down again?” Penguin asks, and Zahra nods. In another minute, they’re all settled on the porch, and Ikkaku runs back to the kitchen to bring them all lemonade. They small talk for a while, at which point Zahra mentions that there used to be more people living in this area, but they’ve since moved on. 

“It’s kind of sad, really. The houses nearby have started to fall apart,” Ikkaku says. “Uni and Clione have tried to save some of them, but most of the time, they’re busy here.” 

“Oh, so it’s not just the two of you here? That’s good,” Bepo says. 

“Yeah, they’ve been with us for a few years now. They needed a place to stay, so now they live in one of those houses. It’s only a short walk from here,” Ikkaku says. 

Law’s interest has been piqued. There are empty houses here and living away from the town would grant him a greater measure of mental respite. Ikkaku and Zahra seem like very nice people, which means the others they’ve mentioned must be as well. Plus, he wouldn’t have as many nights like the one earlier this week. He tries to be casual about it. “Do you want to take a walk over there? I’m interested in seeing how intact these buildings are.” 

Ikkaku doesn’t appear to think anything of it. “Sure, do the rest of you want to come too? Ah, but bibi, you should stay here. Better not to walk as much while you’re still healing.” Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo nod their assent.

Zahra waves them off, and they arrive at the first house a few minutes later. It’s fairly well-kept and even has a small garden out front. “This is where Uni and Clione live,” Ikkaku says, “but right now, they’re tending to our crops back by the farmhouse.” 

The next house they come to is in far worse shape. Its roof has completely caved in, and there are holes in the wooden walls where plants have begun to grow through. Upon closer inspection, the brick chimney has also fallen to pieces. When they get close to it, the grass reaches Law’s knees. 

They visit a few other houses, all in roughly the same condition. Ikkaku, Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin discuss the various structural issues, but Law hardly hears them because this is _perfect_. He can still travel to the clinic; he doesn’t mind the walk if it means he can feel better protected. There’s no chance Doffy would find him out here. 

He turns to the group, interrupting their conversation. “Would it be okay if we lived out here?” 

“Uh, what?” Penguin asks. 

“We can fix up these houses like Uni-ya and Clione-ya did with theirs,” Law says. “If Ikkaku-ya and Zahra-ya would allow us to.” 

“Yeah, we understood that part,” Shachi says. “But why would we do that?” 

Law swallows. “Well, it’s just—it’s safer. You know? Less people.” Or one specific person. 

“There’s still wild animals,” Ikkaku points out. “We don’t even have a ranger around here to take care of the bigger threats.” 

“I don’t think that’s what he means,” Bepo says. “Is this about the other night? It’s okay if it is, but I just want us all to think about this.” 

“It’s not unrelated,” Law admits and sees three of the four other faces soften in concern. “But that’s not all it’s about. I’ll have more space to work on my magic and we’re still a reasonable distance from the clinic; making that walk won’t be difficult. We can help out on the farm, and there’s more materials for you guys to build stuff with. But it’s just an idea.” 

“Right now, it’s just the four of us. It would be nice to have more company out here,” Ikakku offers. 

“I guess we can see how restoring one house goes,” Shachi says. “We’ve been talking about repairs for the last ten minutes at least.” 

Penguin shrugs. “I like it out here, and I’m cool with helping with the farm. Let’s go back and talk to the others about it.” 

Bepo hangs back a little with Law, letting the other three walk ahead of them. He begins carefully. “I trust you to make your own decisions and there are plenty of good reasons for us to try living here.”

Law frowns. “But…?” 

“I just want you to know that we’ll protect you no matter where we end up. So it’s okay if moving here doesn’t fix everything for you. We love you, you know? And we want you to be happy.” 

Law stares at the ground intensely, willing back tears. “I love you guys too,” he manages to get out around the lump in his throat. “But _I’m_ the one protecting _you_.” 

Bepo pats his shoulder. “Yeah.” 

\---

Zahra, Uni, and Clione are more than happy to have new neighbors. Immediately, things get set in motion. Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo switch out days at the clinic so one is always there to help Law while the other two get to work making a liveable house. On Mondays, Law closes the clinic and joins them. (Penguin points out very early on that this whole thing had been his idea so he better fucking do some of the heavy lifting.) 

There’s no way around it: this is an extensive project. Ikkaku, Uni and Clione come over to help out whenever they can, but most of the time, they’re the ones who need help. Harvest season in particular is brutal; not much gets done on the house during that month. 

And yet, progress is made, and the other three blend seamlessly into Penguin, Shachi, Bepo, and Law’s dynamic. Ikkaku takes particular delight in out-snarking Penguin and Shachi, so they’re all usually trading good-natured barbs back and forth. Clione and Bepo can talk up a storm, but Uni’s quieter, which means he and Law get along well. 

As Roci would say, Law does come out of his shell after a while; he just feels he has to start over whenever he’s around new people. He further weaves his way into Ikkaku’s good graces when his dry humor makes an appearance, and he enjoys spending time with Clione once the other teen figures out that Law doesn’t want to talk about certain things. 

In mid-spring, the house is ready for moving in. Law and Bepo haul their admittedly sparse belongings to their new living space, while Penguin and Shachi knock down the wall separating their old house from the clinic to create a larger working space. 

That night, they have a housewarming party. Ikkaku brings a roast pig, Zahra makes wali wa nazi (rice cooked in coconut milk, Bepo asks), and Uni and Clione provide salad and wine. The scene of all these people Law cares about laughing and celebrating with each other is one that he carefully tucks away in his memory. When he goes to bed, he sleeps more soundly than usual.

\---

Law doesn’t remember telling anyone when his birthday is, but the day he turns eighteen, everyone knows and makes an unreasonably large deal out of it. 

Bepo attempts to explain. “You’re an adult now!”

“Actually, the human brain doesn’t finish maturing until age twenty-five,” Law says.

Shachi mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “I fucking hate this guy.” 

They all force Law to take the day off from the clinic—apparently Clione already left a notice for the patients—and spend the day doing absolutely nothing productive together. It’s nice, and once he’s over his initial grumpiness, Law really is touched that they all wanted to celebrate. 

After dinner and cake (Law forbids any singing), Penguin stands in front of them proudly. “I have a surprise.” 

“Oh?” Law asks. 

Penguin runs to his room and returns with a tattoo needle and ink. “Ta-da!” 

Law narrows his eyes. “How did you know I wanted a tattoo? Did you—”

“I went through your stuff, yeah,” Penguin says. “Where do you want it?” 

Law loves his friends, but they’re also terrible. “If you’re talking about the heart design in my notebook, I was thinking my chest.” 

Ikkaku whistles. “Bit ambitious for your first one, isn’t it?” 

“It’s important to me.” Law shrugs. He’s been workshopping different ideas for about a month now, all different iterations of the same theme. 

Penguin pulls out a copy that he’s made and shows it to Law. “How big?” 

Law sketches out a torso and then overlays the design where he wants it. “If you think you can do it.”

“Oh, I can do it,” Penguin says, full of bravado. 

Uni sighs. “Did you practice this even once?” 

“No,” Penguin admits, “but I watched the guy who I got this stuff from.” 

“Law, are you sure about this?” Bepo asks, worried. 

“It’ll be fine. And if it isn’t, I can make my skin release the ink.” Law looks at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I mean, probably.” 

“Yeah, that sounds right,” Shachi says, which seems to settle it. 

Law takes his shirt off and Penguin dabs some alcohol onto a towel and then wipes his chest down. “I’ll start with the heart and then do the face. Is that okay?” 

“Whatever you think will be easiest,” Law says and tries not to panic now that he’s actually about to do this. He makes his living in medicine, but staring down a needle like this is a little unnerving.

Bepo notices his slight change in expression and lays his hand on Law’s shoulder. Penguin fills the needle, sticks his tongue out of his mouth in concentration, and makes the first prick. It’s not that bad. Law releases some of the tension he’s been holding. 

“Can the rest of us see the design?” Clione asks, and Bepo takes the paper from Penguin for a minute to show them. They all _ooh_ appreciatively. 

“You totally don’t have to,” Ikkaku starts, “but do you want to tell us about the significance?” 

Law ponders the question. All the Roci stuff will come out eventually, right? And it’s better to talk about it when he’s calm and not in a blind panic. “Sure. It represents someone who took care of me five years ago. He was the first to tell me he loved me in a long time, and uh, the face is one of the last memories I have of him. It’s—this tattoo is just me being sentimental.” 

“What was his name?” Penguin asks, continuing his work. 

“Donquixote Rocinante. But I always called him Roci-ya,” Law says. He sees Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo’s eyes widen for a brief flash, no doubt recalling Law’s fear about Doffy and beginning to put some things together. 

“I’m sure he’d love to see what you designed in his memory,” Bepo says. 

Law smiles, thinking of what Roci would say about this. “Well, he might not like the medium. He hated his own tattoo, and he’d definitely be worrying like crazy over the fact that I’m not getting it done by a professional.” 

“Did he just get a bad tattoo one time?” Uni asks, and Shachi makes a motion as if to hush him. 

Law cuts in. “Hey, it’s a fair question. But no, it was a ritual tattoo that only Celestial Dragons have done. His brother—Doflamingo, but we called him Doffy—made them both get theirs at a young age.” 

“You worked with Celestial Dragons?” Ikkaku asks, and the rest of Law’s story unfolds from there. 

He tells his friends about Flevance and how that led him to the brothers. He tells them about the first stabs at necromancy, Doffy’s long-term plan, and Roci’s attempts to stop it. He tells them about how Roci showed him a different path, one that he’s been on ever since. And finally, he tells them how Roci died. Law wouldn’t have been able to do this before now, but enough time has passed and he knows these people well enough for the chain of events to flow easily. 

When he finishes, it’s Shachi who speaks up first. “Are you, like, okay?” 

Law laughs a little, and then he laughs a little more. “Shachi-ya, I’m better than I ever have been.” 

Penguin completes the tattoo perfectly and Law’s more effusive with his thanks than he would be normally. He draws everyone in for a group hug and says it’s been the best birthday he’s ever had. 

\---

Over the years, their group works to restore some of the other houses nearby. Law feels enough at ease here that he decides to try living alone—not because he’s lying to himself after being punished with isolation, but because he wants his own space. He moves into a smaller, one-person residence once everyone helps him get it fixed up. Bepo’s upset, but Law assures him very little will actually change.

And very little does change. Law still sees his friends nearly every day, plus every house takes turns hosting dinner once a week. The clinic is bustling, and Law finds more creative ways to use his magic to heal and revive. He tries once to reach out to the magic that his parents used, but it doesn’t reach back, reminding him that he made his choice long ago. At heart, Law will never be a true healer. 

But he continues learning various spells that rely on different energy sources, since he can’t use life energy to heal someone, only to revive. (And reviving a person without enough stored life energy takes a toll. He tries it once, when he’s panicked and out of other options and he passes out on the spot, right as his patient awakes. Penguin carries him home that night and gives him a long rant about how he could’ve killed himself if the patient was further gone.) 

He still uses his medical necromancy to make the non-magical part of healing easier. Anesthesia can be metabolized more quickly in an emergency, and he can locate a heart blockage after a few seconds of searching. All in all, he makes a damn good healer, even if he’s a nontraditional one. 

Traditional necromancy makes its appearance on occasion and that’s when Law uses his staff for its intended purpose. When a troll tries to ruin their crops, Law summons several dead warriors to help fight it off. Summoning spirits and making them corporeal enough to do damage is difficult; he never got the chance to practice much with Doffy. And now, it’s not something that he particularly _wants_ to practice, but this is the magic he chose and it’ll help protect his friends. 

Calling into another plane of existence means that to others, Law’s eyes are completely blank and he’s standing motionless. Bepo nearly works himself into a frenzy when he comes across Law while he’s practicing. But Law actually familiarizes himself with a few spirits and the call becomes easier. He passes them through the hematite on his staff to lend them corporeality, which works fine as long as he has some life energy stored in the stone. There’s no workaround spells with classic necromancy, but he acquires the life energy itself from other sources than the ones he grew up using. 

After a few attacks on the town, Law’s place as a valued member of the community is secure. People respect someone who will help protect their homes and their population, and they kindly look past the fact that Law uses necromancy to do so. Bepo and Ikkaku join him as protectors of the town, both studying their own forms of magic. 

For many years, Bepo neglected the other powers of nature that he could wield as a druid, but now that he can control his animal and human forms, he turns toward the forest that houses them. Most of Bepo’s magic focuses on encouraging plant growth for the benefit of their farm, but on occasion, he joins Law by calling on various animals to assist in a counterattack. 

Ikkaku wants to be a wizard like Law, but she’s more interested in evocation of the elements. Like Bepo, her interest stems from a desire to help the farm, but she also wants to be able to protect her family. Law coaches her through her first attempts to reach out to the magic, and it easily accepts her as its own. The first time she summons a lightning bolt, it strikes down way too close to the house for Zahra’s comfort, and she banishes them to a less occupied area. But after several more months, Ikkaku can control the elements with ease, and she and Law make a formidable team when necessary. Most of the time, though, she’s calling down rain so she and Bepo can stave off the effects of a dry season.

Penguin and Shachi take up carpentry more seriously, Uni looks into wagon making, and Clione takes up mapmaking, but only as a hobby. The latter two’s focus is still the farm, especially as Zahra gets older. However, as Law, Ikkaku, and Bepo make names for themselves, more people become interested in their small community. They’re happy to work on the farm and in return, Penguin and Shachi work to repair houses for them to occupy. In the next decade, their initial group of eight balloons to roughly twenty. 

Villages are still getting destroyed, though Law’s less sure whether Doffy is always the culprit. Regardless, whenever he receives word, he gathers the original crew and their supplies, and they all take a couple of Uni’s wagons to the disaster site. Law and Ikkaku help heal the injured, Bepo and Clione tend to the crops, and Penguin, Shachi, and Uni lead the rebuilding efforts. It’s the closest they ever get to the adventuring party Penguin once thought Law would lead, but they’re content using their skills to help those crushed in the name of fascist power struggles.

Although Law doesn’t mind his name being spread around their hometown, he draws the line at it going beyond there. He’s already taking a risk spending time at all these towns that Doffy might’ve been to, and he’s not about to blow his cover so many years later. Instead, he colloquially refers to their group as the Party of Heart in honor of Roci and introduces himself with his first name. 

The Party of Heart only travels together a handful of times a year, and not all the ruination they tend to has been done maliciously; sometimes it’s due to a natural disaster or a monster rampage. For the remainder of the year, they’re all just living and going about their business in their small, self-created neighborhood. The most exciting thing that happens is when the barn cat has kittens and Law takes two black ones to name Polar and Tang. (He’s a necromancer—what’s he supposed to do, not have black cats?)

Since Penguin did such a nice job on his initial tattoo, Law asks him to do several others in the following years: a more extensive design of the smiling face on his back, large hearts on his shoulders, and some simpler designs on his forearms and hands. He keeps everything symmetrical except for the finishing touch: “DEATH” spelled out on both sets of fingers, which reads linearly. 

“Do I want to ask why you want these?” Penguin asks while he fills the needle to begin writing the words. “It seems a little like overkill, you know? Like, people already know that you’re a necromancer.” 

“They’re not for other people, Penguin-ya. They’re for me,” Law says. “I picked necromancy for a reason, and I’m actually able to embrace it now. I’m at peace with death.” 

Penguin looks like there is very little stopping him from rolling his eyes, but he fulfills Law’s request all the same.

\---

So that’s it: Law’s a necromancer, a healer, a cat owner, an occasional farmhand, and a man known for taking care of others when they need help. He gets to spend his life with friends who know his past and still love him. It’s everything he dreamed of as a kid back in Flevance. 

\---

But of course that’s not it. 

His family remains with him, always. Some days more than others, but they’re never far from his mind. In contrast to that melancholic comfort, the rest of Flevance just weighs on him. He’s quite a bit stronger than he was at twelve years old, and getting revenge on North Blue isn’t so far beyond him now. He _could_ conceivably do what he dreamed of in the fresh aftermath of his people’s genocide. 

But what he talked about with Roci is still true—what if his people don’t want to fight like that? Roci supported his plan, but his parents and Lami might not. He can’t bear to think about that rejection.

And besides that, he has a higher order concern: Doffy’s still out there somewhere. Law hasn’t forgotten about him either and underneath the rest of his emotions, there’s always a small vein of anger. He keeps it hidden from everyone else; they’d just tell him to move on, but he’d rather not. Law wants revenge and he doesn’t care if it’s unhealthy. 

Because how safe is he really, even when all these years have passed? Physically speaking, there’s always the possibility that Doffy could find him. Mentally speaking, Law handles things better than he once did, but the scars of the abuse have never left him. He struggles to make connections with people, and it’s even harder for him to be open emotionally. 

(Some days, he can feel himself retreating into his protective solitude. Law hasn’t explicitly explained these maladaptive coping mechanisms to his friends, but they seem to have figured them out on their own. He knows because on those bad days, someone is always sent to check up on him.)

So no, he hasn’t forgiven and hasn’t forgotten what Doffy did. The bastard doesn’t get to threaten him with murder and then just fuck off while still holding part of Law’s fractured emotional stability. That simply wouldn’t be fair.

Thirteen years after Roci’s murder, Law’s patience pays off. There’s a small news item about Donquixote Doflamingo being taken into North Blue Kingdom’s prison for involvement in an unlawful gathering. It’s only a two-year sentence and of all the things that Doffy could’ve gotten nabbed for, it’s pretty minor. 

Law lets him sit in prison for the full duration of his sentence. Shouldn’t everyone get a taste of the Kingdom’s idea of justice? 

It’s probably his imagination, but he feels it when the two years are up and Doffy’s released. He knows Doffy’s crawling back to his old house with his tail between his legs. Mariejois would’ve never let one of their own get locked up for such a petty slight, so Doffy must’ve finally fallen out of favor. Law’s not above kicking him while he’s down; in fact, he relishes the thought. 

Because, despite everything else, Law’s already won. No matter how killing Doffy goes, Law fucking _won_. He’s living a perfectly lovely life, full of people who are loyal to the bone, and he’s still only twenty-eight. Doffy’s a sad old man whose long bloodline did nothing to save him from a commoner’s fate. 

And the other best part? Doffy would never perceive Law as an actual threat since Law will always be a scared, weak child in his mind. Yes, this is going to be a gorgeous surprise. 

The only issue is that while Law definitely shouldn’t go alone, he also doesn’t want to take any of his friends. As much as he feels he has the upper hand in this situation, Doffy can be unpredictable, and he doesn’t want to chance his friends seeing him the way Doffy does. 

So Law continues biding his time, waiting to find someone fit for the task. And one day, they fall right into his lap, once again via the newspaper. Monkey D. “Mugiwara” Luffy and the Strawhat Party have just overthrown Charlotte Linlin, one of the most powerful wizards the four kingdoms have ever seen, yet the smiling young man doesn’t seem worse for wear in the slightest. _Him_ , Law thinks.

It makes perfect sense: Mugiwara is already accustomed to adventuring, he’s clearly powerful, and he doesn’t look like the type to ask too many questions.

The next day, Law tells everyone he’s going on a weeklong trip for spell materials and leaves them in charge of both the clinic and feeding his cats. He then goes to town to procure directions to the Thousand Sunny Tavern, Mugiwara’s supposed place of business, and sets off on the surprisingly short journey.

Law idly wonders if Doffy’s dying expression will have the same sense of betrayal as Roci’s. Well. He’ll find out soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can promise no one else’s backstory will be this long this i can promise you. i’m only 22 i love law   
> all i had when i wrote afef was “law = necromancer. weapons: hits people over head with staff. powers: raising the dead lol. backstory: same, decided to study necromancy after his family is killed, which is why he went to doflamingo.” and then, after two months and several world-building conversations with my gfs, this fic happened. s/o to them for being supportive when i said, “i can give law my own experience of abuse, right?”   
> anyway, zoro will be next! and there should be a way shorter wait, really


	4. zoro: an accident already happening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again i exceeded my goal for these… they’re supposed to be 1 to 2k and here we are with 4k. re: warnings, there’s some brief animal death. 
> 
> i have a lot of thoughts about this au, but they’re never in order. plus for this chapter in particular, i spent way too long trying to find the right terms for the (very short) sword fight. this all equals a pretty slow update schedule, so thank you for your patience!
> 
> at any rate, all the love to zoro, whose headspace is a joy to write <3

As usual, he doesn’t go looking for the trouble: it finds him first. He moved to this small village to train in peace, but the freakishly big wolf currently attacking the farmer next door’s livestock clearly didn’t get the message. 

The farmer yells and waves a pitchfork at the intruder, but it bats the tool aside easily and bares its teeth at the now-cowering man. A quick glance down the road reveals that no one else is coming. 

No time like the present to put his endless sword fighting practice to use. Zoro grabs his swords from where they rest in their sheathes and rushes out the door. 

The creature is so focused on the farmer that it only notices Zoro’s presence an instant before its throat is slashed. Zoro’s almost disappointed; he at least wanted a bit of a fight.

He waves off the farmer’s enthusiastic thanks—all in a day’s work—and begins dragging the wolf to market. With the amount of meat this thing has, he’ll be able to buy a few rounds at the tavern. 

\---

That should’ve been the end of his brief stint as a hero, but a couple months later, the tavern is robbed. Or, more accurately, a band of thieves _attempts_ to rob the tavern, because Zoro is there when they enter, and he doesn’t take kindly to his routine being interrupted. 

The leader slams the door open and yells for everyone to put their hands up. Zoro raises an eyebrow while he finishes his drink. He lazily turns around on his bar stool and sees the small group pointing weapons at him, the bartender, and the few other customers. One member off to the side has a bow aimed at his head, but he can dodge that, easy. Their leader has a sword, another has an axe, and the last one looks like they’re holding a pair of daggers. 

At least this threat seems more deserving of his training than that wolf. He drops his hand to the sheathes hanging off his hip, and the leader takes notice. 

“Hey, you with the green hair! What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Preparing to send you on your way,” Zoro replies, drawing out his first sword, Shusui. 

“I thought this place didn’t have a ranger,” Daggers whispers, but Zoro can still hear them. 

“It doesn’t.” The leader frowns and motions to the archer. 

Zoro quickly slides off the stool, letting the arrow lodge itself into the bar behind him. He’s lucky these idiots came when they did, because that would’ve been a lot harder if he’d already made his way through his typical number of drinks. 

The axe swing is easy to block, but the dagger manages to nick his arm before he can dodge completely. He makes up for it by unsheathing Sandai and lunging at them with the dull side of the blade. No need for Wado; these guys look like amateurs, and he’s only been showing off his three-sword style to people who are true opponents. 

“Oh, step back,” the leader says, clearly frustrated now. “Let me deal with this.” 

Good, a proper sword fight. The thief tries to crowd Zoro against the bar, but he pivots and keeps a distance since he hasn’t seen how this guy fights yet. However, looking at how he’s made his subordinates do the dirty work so far, Zoro can make some assumptions. 

Sure enough, his opponent moves first, cutting from the wrist. Zoro pushes back on the blade, just to show his own strength and give the other an out if he doesn’t want to do this. They both withdraw, and the man sets his jaw, preparing himself to keep going. 

Ah, he’ll keep this short. No point making a small-time criminal wear himself out as long as he’s intimidated enough not to do this again. Zoro loudly beats Shusui against his opponent’s blade, startling him enough to stumble back. In that opening, Zoro quickly thrusts Sandai forward, pointing it directly at his throat. 

“I think it would be best for you to leave before anyone gets hurt,” Zoro says. 

The leader still looks hesitant, but the archer tugs on his sleeve, and he lowers his blade, leaving Zoro to do the same. Everyone else in the tavern is silent as the group leaves in defeat. Once Zoro sheathes his swords, however, they erupt in cheers. 

The bartender is so grateful that he clears Zoro’s tab for the night and offers him as many rounds as he wants. Zoro waves off the praise again. He doesn’t like being thought of as a hero, but on the other hand, he’s not so high-and-mighty as to refuse free ale.

\---

Early next morning, there’s a pink-haired woman he’s never seen before on his porch. When Zoro opens the door, she greets him far too enthusiastically for a stranger. 

“Do I know you?” he asks. 

“Oh, not yet! But word’s been spreading about how you helped out the tavern yesterday.” She smiles. “It’s going to be great having a ranger around.” 

“There’s a ranger here? Then why the hell didn’t they do anything about the tavern?” 

The woman stares at him like he’s stupid. “You. You’re the ranger. Aren’t you?” 

“Why would I be a ranger?” 

“Because you’ve protected the town on two separate occasions.”

“Because I was affected directly. And I wanted sword fighting practice.”

She seems distinctly less excited than she did a minute ago. “So, you’re… what, just some guy with swords?” 

“You don’t have to say it like that.” Zoro frowns. “Who are you, anyway?” 

“My name’s Perona. I live on the other side of town.” After a pause, she adds, “You know, most people would say ‘nice to meet you’ and introduce themselves too.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Zoro says stiffly. “I’m Zoro. Why did you bother me while I was training?” 

“Well, I was _going_ to ask if you wanted to have lunch at my place,” she explains. “As a thanks for helping us out.” 

Now that piques his interest. “I get free food just for kicking some guys out of town?” 

“You make it sound so transactional.” Perona rolls her eyes. “But yeah, this is how most people repay rangers for their services. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got more free drinks next time you head to the tavern.” 

Well. This changes everything.

\---

Perona’s right; once Zoro announces himself as ranger, people start giving him food and drink for helping out. If he’d known this would happen, he would’ve started performing these services a lot sooner. 

It’s no skin off his nose to occasionally hunt down a predator that’s been picking off someone’s livestock, and he loves getting a chance to practice combat on anyone who attacks the townspeople. He gets to know these people decently well, but it’s Perona who talks to him the most.

He repeatedly tells her he’s not interested in friendship, and she says she isn’t either. They’re still at each other’s houses most days. But since Perona despises his inability to cook much more than rice, it’s usually her place that they spend time at. 

Some of the other villagers think there’s something going on between them and have hinted as much, but Zoro laughs it off. Perona’s not his type—to say the least—and she’s way too annoying. She says the same about Zoro when comments come her way.

They never have a “what are we” conversation because, like, they’re definitely friends. Even if they say they don’t want to be. Zoro’s never had siblings, but he imagines an older sister would be something like Perona, with how nosy she is and how she tells him he does everything wrong. 

Sounds weird to tell someone you’ve adopted them as a sibling, though. He hopes she just gets it. She probably does, if the way she fondly calls him a “dumbass kid” is any indication.

\---

Zoro eventually takes the time to write to Kuina because he knows she’s going to find this whole thing hilarious. Someone who wants to be the world’s greatest swordsman is tying himself down to one place? Yeah, she’ll laugh and send him news on how her own training is going, and it’s probably better than his. This whole rival business can be a headache sometimes. 

But hey, he’s still glad she didn’t let a stupid hangup like gender of all things keep her from pursuing her dream. After all, she’d beat him what, two thousand times before she said she thought she couldn’t hack it as a woman? Zoro had to say _something._

His signature style is already thanks to her, a stupid joke she made several years ago. Once again, Zoro had been frustratedly trying to beat her and failing, so Kuina handicapped herself. 

“I bet I could still beat you even with a sword in my mouth,” she’d taunted before doing exactly that. But he was intrigued by the idea of using three swords instead of just one in each hand. 

Kuina groans every time his three-sword style comes up, because _gods, Zoro, I was just teasing you, why did you take it seriously?_

Zoro’s bad at telling when people are teasing him, which has led to Kuina having to explain herself many times over the years. It’s just that this specific instance stuck with him as more than a joke because he’s convinced it’s the edge he needs to become the greatest swordsman.

Kuina writes back to let him know she thinks the ranger position is just the kind of thing he needs: a place to call his own for a while. It’s considerate and maybe true. He does tend to meander from place to place, never putting down roots. 

But then she rubs in how well she’s doing with her training, so he focuses on that instead. 

\---

The ranger gig is just that: a gig. But it’s a nice one, and Zoro’s not inclined to give it up. He gets to train as much as he wants, plus he gets free booze. Something big would have to come along to convince him to move on. 

As it turns out, it’s not something big, at least not physically. Luffy’s shorter than him by a few inches, yet his personality dwarfs Zoro’s. His nonstop energy is exhausting to be around, but it’s the same kind of exhaustion Zoro feels after a really good workout. 

It starts because Luffy watches him take down a pack of boars that are threatening to trample several townspeople who can’t get out of the way in time. Zoro doesn’t even realize he was being watched by anyone other than the locals until Luffy corners him in the tavern afterward. 

“I’ve never seen someone fight with three swords,” he says excitedly. “It was really cool!”

“Thanks,” Zoro says, and then he hears Perona in his head telling him not to be standoffish and rude, so he continues the conversation. “I’m Zoro. I’m training to be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“That’s awesome.” This guy has the brightest smile he’s ever seen. “I’m Luffy! I’m going on an adventure.” 

“An adventure, huh?” Zoro takes a swig of his ale. It’s free again, of course. “What kind?” 

Luffy shrugs. “Any! I won’t know what kind until I find it.” 

“Well, I hope it’s a good one.” 

“Actually,” Luffy says, “I wanted to ask you to come too. You could work on becoming the world’s greatest swordsman along the way!” 

Zoro grunts. “Thanks, but I have a good thing going here. And I don’t even know you.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

Fuck, now he can’t think of anything. “Well, uh, where are you headed after you pass through?” 

“I might try going south,” Luffy says after a minute of thinking. “I heard there’s an Orange Town near here, and I like oranges, so.” 

They chat for another hour about other places Luffy can go in East Blue and what else Zoro’s done as a ranger before Zoro finally yawns. 

“It’s been great talking to you,” he says, because it has been. It’s weird, Luffy has this magnetism, and Zoro feels like he shouldn’t pull away. But still, he isn’t quite compelled enough to follow him away from the village. “I’ll see you before you leave tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Luffy says, only looking a little disappointed that Zoro’s implying he won’t be joining him. 

\---

Zoro starts the next day by waking up to a very insistent pounding on his door. He’s convinced it’s Luffy, here to make an impassioned plea, but when he opens the door, it’s someone with a metal jaw and a crossbow for a right arm. 

This guy isn’t saying anything, so Zoro does. “Hello?” 

“Meet me in the town square in half an hour,” is the response he gets before the man walks away. Which… sure, he might as well. 

Half an hour later, Zoro arrives at the square with his swords, munching on an apple. There’s a decent amount of people here, including Luffy and Perona, who he nods at. She walks over quickly. 

“Zoro, who is this?” she asks. The other guy takes the chance to respond.

“I’m Captain Morgan of the East Blue Kingdom’s military,” he announces. “And I’m here to challenge you, Roronoa Zoro, for your position as ranger.” 

“You have a crossbow for an arm,” Zoro says through a mouthful of apple. It’s really distracting. He has no choice but to comment on it.

“Yes… that’s why they call me Crossbow-Arm Morgan,” Morgan replies. Zoro nods. Makes sense. “Did you not hear me challenge you?” 

“No, I did.” Zoro drops the apple core on the ground. “What sort of challenge are you thinking?” 

“A hunt,” Morgan says. “Whoever brings back the biggest kill by sundown gets the position.” 

Morgan hasn’t explained why he wants the ranger position so badly—it’s clearly not a hot commodity since Zoro got it without even trying—but Zoro enjoys a good hunt. “Sure.” 

“What?” Perona whispers angrily. “This is shady as fuck, Zoro! Are you crazy?” 

Zoro turns away from Morgan so the two of them can speak more easily. “He seems fine. It’s just a hunt, and it’ll be done by the end of the day. What could go wrong?” 

“Uh, a lot? You don’t know him!” Perona lowers her voice even more. “And he’s from the Kingdom’s military? I don’t trust that.” 

“What are we talking about?” They both look up to see that Luffy’s joined them. 

“Who are you?” Perona asks. 

“I’m Luffy, Zoro’s friend,” Luffy explains. “Do you think he shouldn’t challenge this guy?” 

“Zoro doesn’t have friends,” Perona says, and before Zoro can argue with that demonstrably untrue statement, she continues. “But yeah, I think this is a terrible idea.” 

“Zoro’s strong!” Luffy points out. “He can handle it.” 

Perona looks like she has something else to say, but Morgan interjects. “Well, Roronoa? Shall we begin?” 

Zoro turns back around. “Yeah. I’ll see you back here at sundown. May the best man win.” 

\---

See, what Morgan doesn’t know is that the boars who stampeded into town yesterday were being chased by something that Zoro’s been tracking for a month. It’s a giant elk, and it clearly possesses some degree of intelligence since it’s managed to stay on the right side of his swords for so long. 

Today, that’ll change. He should really thank Morgan for forcing him to get his ass into gear. 

Zoro’s been trekking through the woods for about an hour when he finds fresh tracks. He follows them for another half hour before he finally sees the elk. Gods, he knew it fell into the giant category from the size of its prints, but it’s fucking massive. Perfect for this contest. 

The elk isn’t going anywhere that Zoro can’t follow, so he decides to look around for some berries to eat. He only got the chance to eat the one apple earlier; he’s still hungry. 

By the time he finds a blueberry bush, he’s burned even more daylight, and by the time he’s had his fill and decides to go back to the elk, he realizes he has no idea where he is. Fuck. He’s fine with a trail to follow, but he should’ve known better than to wander.

Okay, focus. What does Kuina tell him to do when he gets lost? Retracing his steps won’t work since he’s been careful not to leave prints and there aren’t any real landmarks. He can’t get a good look at the sun’s position either. And the main thing, staying in one place until someone else can find him, isn’t possible because no one knows where he is. 

Well, with all that in mind, he guesses he’ll just pick a direction and start walking. Turning around should be a start, right? 

The shadows have shifted a bit as Zoro makes his way back to where he thinks he originally was. He’s so busy trying to figure out if he’s already seen various areas of forest that he doesn’t notice he’s stepped on air, and then it’s too late to stop himself from falling into the pit. 

He lands on his ass, sending pain shooting straight up from his tailbone. After he catches his breath, he makes sure his swords aren’t harmed, and then he checks his limbs. Everything seems to be in order. The pit looks like it’s about ten feet deep, just enough that Zoro can’t get out on his own, and based on the softness of the dirt, it was dug very recently. 

Eventually, Morgan pokes his head over the opening. Oh, thank gods, Zoro thought he was going to be stuck here forever. “Oi!” 

“Comfortable, Roronoa?” Morgan’s smiling. “You know, I thought it would be a lot harder to get you here, but you just fell in on your own.” 

Wait. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

“There was no way I was going to let you win this contest, but with your skills, I needed some extra help.” 

“Why do you even want to be ranger so bad?” Zoro asks, well and truly pissed now. “I got the job by accident. No one else wanted it.”

“It’s not my personal goal; it’s East Blue’s. The Kingdom wants to consolidate leadership at all levels,” Morgan explains. “Too risky having all these people we haven’t vetted. Like you.” 

“That’s stupid. And you didn’t have to go through all this. You could’ve just said you were taking the position.” 

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “Sure. But we’ve learned from some dissidents in North Blue—it’s better to make people think you’ve earned power over them rather than just asserting it. So, I win a contest, and the town assumes I’m the better ranger. Happy ending for everyone.” 

“I mean, I’m still stuck in a pit. Unless you’re planning on letting me out?” 

“No, you’re staying here for the rest of your short life.” Morgan laughs. “But don’t worry, I’ll send out a search party to find your body in a few days.” 

With that, Crossbow-Arm Morgan walks away and Zoro is left alone, completely fucked. 

\---

It’s got to be late, late afternoon when he hears leaves rustling overhead again. 

“Hello?” Zoro yells before he has to cough. His throat’s gotten pretty dry. 

Luffy’s face appears. “Oh hey, Zoro! How’d you get down there?” 

“Luffy,” Zoro says, very stupidly. 

“Should I come down there too?” 

In the presence of overwhelmingly worse stupidity, Zoro snaps out of it. “What the fuck? No! Throw something down here so I can climb out!”

“Uh, okay, hold on!” Zoro hears more leaves rustling for a few minutes, then Luffy reappears. “I found a vine.” 

“Great, throw it down,” Zoro says, and then panics as Luffy starts to move. “No, gods, just one end of the vine!” 

Luffy lowers the vine so he can hold onto one end of it and tosses the rest to Zoro, who immediately grabs on. “I’m going to start pulling, is that okay?” 

Zoro shouts his assent, and with Luffy’s strength (where is it all hiding in those noodly arms?) he’s soon out. He lies on the ground for a minute to catch his breath and also to appreciate the fact that he’s not actually going to die in a pit. 

“You saved my life,” he says finally, looking over at Luffy, who’s watching him curiously. “No one else comes this far out in the forest.” 

Luffy laughs. “No problem! I was just following this big elk.” 

Zoro immediately sits up. “It’s near here?” He can still win this contest and show up Morgan in front of everyone? His luck’s turning around. 

“Yeah, right over there.” Luffy’s eyes widen with excitement. “Can I watch you take it down?” 

“I owe you way more than that,” Zoro says. “But sure. It’s the least I can do.” 

\--- 

Zoro lets Luffy lead the way back into town. It takes both of them to carry the elk, and they arrive just as the sun is touching the tops of the roofs. 

Perona sees them first, yelling with excitement, which turns to concern as she notices Zoro’s appearance. He waves her off, a promise to explain later. Right now, he just wants to revel in Morgan’s defeat. 

The other man has only brought back a decently-sized wild turkey. It makes sense—he thought Zoro wasn’t going to show—but man, he looks pathetic. 

“The winner seems clear,” Perona gloats. “Zoro will keep his position. And I suggest you move along, Captain Morgan.” 

Zoro and Morgan look at each other long and hard. Morgan’s hands are tied due to his own strategy. He can’t claim power now without pushback. The two men shake hands, gripping with all their strength, and then Morgan nods and heads out of town without looking back. 

“What do you say about cooking up this elk for a feast?” the butcher asks, and Luffy nearly salivates as Zoro nods his agreement. He bounces in place as Zoro has a few drinks and catches Perona up on what happened. When the meat is ready, Luffy pounces and tears into it like a wild animal. 

Zoro looks at him and smiles. He loves this town and he loves the people, but maybe it’s time for a break. He and Luffy make a good team, plus he’s interested in what else the other can do. 

Yeah, an adventure sounds pretty good right now. 

\---

Perona receives letters in addition to Kuina, not because they’re rivals, but because she insisted. Zoro told her he’d be back after a while, and she said that wasn’t good enough. So she gets to hear about all the villages they help out and all the other people who join them on their adventure. Zoro’s letters aren’t long, but he tries to add some detail so Perona doesn’t tell him he’s a boring pen pal for the fifth time. 

Kuina doesn’t push for that; they both read between the lines of what the other says, meaning there’s less elaboration necessary. She’s thrilled to hear how Zoro faced the current world’s greatest swordsman for the first time (and lost, because Mihawk’s title is well-deserved), and she desperately wants to join in when Mihawk agrees to train Zoro. Of course Zoro lets her. How can he prove he’s better than her if they don’t have access to the same opportunities?

In the down time between the Strawhats’ expeditions, Zoro returns to his village and takes up his old duties. He’s always glad to be back; it’s nice to have somewhere to return to. And dealing with small, frankly normal problems after everything else he does is relaxing. 

During the years before Luffy opens the Thousand Sunny, the villagers are also his only source of free booze and that doesn’t hurt either. Even after Luffy opens the tavern, he still gets cut off sporadically, at Sanji’s insistence. He claims it’s to keep Zoro from drinking Luffy out of business, but Zoro’s sure he also likes getting to be an asshole.

Luffy’s got a soft spot for him, though, only rivaled by the one Zoro has for him. Oh sure, they each have their moments of thinking the other’s an idiot, but their bond is something different than Zoro has with Kuina, or Perona, or even their other party members. They both operate on the same principles and Zoro can read him quite well. It helps that Luffy emotes so dramatically.

Zoro saw something in Luffy before anyone else did. Luffy saw something in Zoro that he wanted by his side. After a few years, Zoro can claim they’re about even on saving each other’s lives, but no one’s keeping track. 

It’s enough to just keep waiting for the next adventure to come along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, kuina invents three-sword style in this au, but it’s because the way zoro fights is ridiculous in any universe other than one piece’s, so there has to be a ridiculous reason why he would fight like that in those other universes. here, zoro—an autistic after my own heart—just isn’t good at understanding what’s a joke.
> 
> i’m starting a new job on monday, so the next update might be another few weeks out. but it’ll be about nami (and vivi)!


End file.
